Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath
by Doctor It
Summary: Based on the book, this story takes place in the time after Howl's and Sophie's curses have been broken. A tender romance blooms, but nothing is ever simple for Sophie! When a part of Howl's past resurfaces, what will she do? Be wary of twisted plot s .
1. Chapter 1

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie. _

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 1: In Which a Dream Occurs**

Sophie stretched out on her new bed. A few days after she'd broken Howl's contract with Calcifer, Howl had magicked a brand new bed that fit cozily in her cubby. It was still very early, and she didn't expect anyone to be up, which suited Sophie just fine. She was still in charge of the flower shop, and so she slipped into her now baggy grey dress, and her dowdy old shoes. It was such a great relief to be young again. Sophie felt herself sympathizing with that loony Witch of the Waste. Being old was definitely not appealing. Sophie shuddered though; that Witch had been a nasty piece of work, and she'd only just acknowledged that grim satisfaction she'd felt when Howl crumbled the Witch's heart in his hands. Now that she thought of it, it was more so the witch's demon who'd been a fright. It made Sophie a little wary, after Howl's victory, around Calcifer, until he annoyedly assured her that he wasn't going to go stealing hearts at any time. Howl had just given her a smile that sent her heart pitter-pattering, and said, "Oh, my Sophie." And that was the end of that.

Sophie put a log on Calcifer as she passed by to get the tub that Michael magicked to hover around.

"Morning, Sophie."

"Good morning, Calcifer. Just going to get some flowers for today."

"Okay. I really like your voice now Sophie. Better than that old croak…"

"Yes, Calcifer, I've heard you before," said Sophie rather crossly, before she headed out the door, the purple paint blob showing.

The sun was just rising on this edge of the Waste, and the aromatic smell of the flowers slammed up Sophie's delicate nostrils not unpleasantly. With the tub hovering behind her full of water, and with scissors ready at hand, Sophie made her way through the throngs of flora. The day was so nice already, and the heat was more bearable at this time. Sophie tucked a piece of red-gold hair that had fallen in her face behind an ear, and bent down to cut a bundle of lilacs that grew on a mini-bush. A lot more customers had flocked to the shop, carrying rumors of disenchanted Aunt's, and handsome Wizards with new hearts. Sophie hummed parts of Calcifer's "saucepan" song, and wondered if she should explain she wasn't really Howl's aunt. Not that it mattered much; as people from her childhood were catching on that she was, indeed, Sophie Hatter, step-daughter of the former owner of the hat shop, Fanny. Still, there were some odd ones that gave her curious looks that implied they were dying to ask if she'd been enchanted young, disenchanted old, or otherwise, but they were too polite to pose a question. Sophie shook her head, her thoughts not making sense. In any case, the shop was definitely raking in a good amount to add to Michael's horde. Just because Howl had his heart back didn't mean he stopped being a vain spendthrift. He might truly love Sophie now, but she guessed that was his green light to primp as long as he wanted without it being paralleled to his inability to properly love. Love…the word took Sophie aback a little. _Howl truly loves me…do I love him? I think so…but…love?_ DOES he _truly love me?_ Sophie was so busy pondering to herself, that she failed to notice where she was cutting.

"Ouch, darn it!"

The tips of her now slender fingers had a small cut across the tops, and they were oozing a bit of red. The stinging pain was startling, and Sophie made to stick all four fingers in her mouth to suck away the pain. However, her motion was obstructed.

"Really, Sophie dear, you should pay more attention."

Sophie started. Howl had appeared right in front of her out of nowhere, an annoying habit he was starting to pick up. He gently took her hand, and placed the wounded fingers in his mouth, licking the cut lightly with his tongue in a way that made Sophie feel hot and bothered. To her surprise, she quite liked it. This thought made her arched brows turn downward. Howl removed her fingers, and gave them a kiss, before entwining his hand with hers. Sophie could no longer feel any stinging and guessed he'd healed them.

"Now Sophie, frowning may have looked nice when you were a granny, but as a young lady it is quite unbecoming."

"Sorry." Sophie didn't stop frowning. His hand was very warm and soft and firm and it made Sophie dizzy with a myriad of feelings.

"Sophie…" Howl growled playfully. She sighed, and lit her face up with a fake, cheery smile.

"It's getting there; we'll get that grumpy granny out of you yet…"

He was leaning in very close, so close that Sophie could catch a hint of his breath. It smelled very good, lacking his usual perfumes. Howl brought up their twined hands so that they lay between their chests, and he kissed her knuckles.

"I've been asked to see the King with Suliman," he said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's something to do with the position of Royal Wizard, and I've no mind to compete for it. I really don't see any reason to go."

Sophie didn't like the way he was suddenly eyeing her with his blue-green beauties from behind his shaggy hair.

"In fact, I can think of plenty of reasons I should stay…"

"Oh really?" Sophie managed to say. Howl had curled his arm around her waist, pulling her in closer, so that she had to put her free hand onto his chest to prevent it from being squished. Her fingers splayed across his chest felt his warmth, and his softly beating heart. He wouldn't let her break away from his gaze, so her chin was tilted up in order to see him.

"Yes. Y'know Sophie," he whispered as he lowered his face. "Gray really isn't your color."

Before she had a chance to retort, his lips were on hers. Her eyes widened in response, and slowly closed as joy raced through her veins. His lips were soft and warm, and the moved in odd, pleasurable patterns with her yielding ones. A small sigh escaped her, and she felt Howl smile against her mouth, crushing her to him, releasing his hand from hers so that he could dig it into her abundant hair. Her bun fell out, releasing shanks of red-gold hair. Sophie swore she could've heard Howl say, "That's more like it," but she was becoming thoroughly distracted. Her freed hand rose to cling onto the back of his neck, pulling him further down to her. His tongue slipped through her lips and danced with hers, creating the oddest sensation for Sophie.

Howl made a groan, and leaned into Sophie, causing her to arch her back slightly. The kiss was becoming quite destracting, and Sophie could barely breathe. She was becoming dizzy, but she clung to Howl, wanting more and more of this feeling. Both her hands clasped to Howl's head, and his hands were, well, everywhere. Dancing up her spine, running through her hair, cupping her face. It wasn't till he made his way halfway up the curves of her waist that Sophie lost her balance, causing her to fall backwards, pulling Howl along with her.  
"Ooompf!"

He landed right on top of her, and all her remaining breath whooshed out. Howl, breathing as raggedly as she was, pulled off her slightly, so that she wasn't squished, but he was still on her.

"You alright Sophie? You took to that with quite a lot of gusto. I was afraid you'd bang the top of my head if I tried that," he chuckled, and his smile made her feel all buttery again.

"Shh."

She pulled his face down again, and she felt his slight surprise and amusement at her eagerness. His lips met hers eagerly enough though, and he pinned her hands over her head with his. His lips surged against hers with a new intensity, and she felt her mind star-sparkled. A warmth spread through her torso, and it caught fire as his lips left hers, and began trailing down her neck to her collarbone, and back. Howl did that a few times, till Sophie was breathing hard and her nerves were on fire. He laid his head on her stomach.

"I think I must go," he murmured. "If I don't stop now, _we'll_ never leave." Sighing, he pulled himself onto his knees to Sophie's side, and then pulled her up into a sitting position.

"Time to go get ready." He stood them both up, and walked with Sophie back towards the castle, the flower tub hovering forgotten behind them.

"Sophie, Sophie, Sophie…"

Everything dimmed out, but Howl's voice was still there, though a little more insistent.

"Sophieeee…..Sophie!"

Her eyes jerked open. She was still in bed, in her nightgown no less, and she immediately pulled up her quilt to her chin, blush rising on her fine cheekbones. So it was all a dream. Sophie sighed, and felt herself pout.

"You've been making these weird moaning noises, and its scaring Calcifer. As a matter of fact, it's frightening me a little too." She hid under the covers, realizing how her hair must look, but before she caught a glimpse of the genuine perplexity in his eyes.

"It was probably a dream Howl. Go away so I can dress." She felt him get off her bed, and heard his footsteps fade away. Peeking out of her covers, she saw that he'd thoughtfully closed her privacy curtain, and the doorway to the stairway. _Damn. It was only a dream._


	2. Chapter 2

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie. _

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 2: In Which Sophie is Slightly Snubbed**

Slightly bleary eyed, Sophie sorted through her clothes for something to wear. All the clothing that Howl had bought her was unfortunately to short and wide. With a sigh, she donned her old grey dress, which hadn't stretched too much from her old fat body, although the bottom hems were ragged from trailing on the ground. It was clean at least, and it fit a lot better than it had in her dream. Her walking stick lay lonely and slightly scorched in the corner, and its handle caught her eye.

"Hello old friend. Sorry, but I'm suddenly quite able to support myself. I'm young now, with solid bones. Perhaps we shall clean you up and give you a proper case? You beat that old demon quite hard."

It seemed to glint smugly. Sophie smiled, and went into the main room. Michael was busy puzzling over a spell on the bench, and Calcifer was nowhere to be seen. The shop wouldn't be open for another hour or so, and Sophie wanted to make breakfast.

"Good morning, Michael. Do you know where Calcifer went?"

"Hello Sophie! I don't know, this spell has kind of taken all of my attention. Maybe he felt like going out?"

"Maybe. Darn. Do we have any kindling? We'll have to make a fire now…"

"Oh, I'll do it! I've just learned a fire spell."

Michael went up to the hearth, and placed a few logs on, with Sophie watching warily by the table. Michael wasn't known to successfully execute newly learned spells, and so Sophie stayed a good distance back…just in case. He leaned in close to the logs, and passed his palm over them, while muttering under his breath. Then, he moved back just in time when a cheery fire sparked and grew nicely in the fireplace. Michael looked pleasantly surprised, and smugly went back to his bench.

"There you are, Sophie."

"Good job, Michael! It didn't blow up!"

"I know!" he exclaimed. Sophie went up to the fireplace, pan in hand.

"Wonderful."

And then the fire spoke.

"HAHAHA! GOT YOU MICHAEL!"

Sophie started, and then let out a giggle. Michael's spell hadn't worked; Calcifer had just come back.

"Oh lily-livers. I knew the fire came too quickly. I didn't even say the final spell-word." Gloom filled Michael's face, and he slowly went back to his spell.

"Oh cheer up Michael. I'll make you some breakfast." He nodded glumly, while Calcifer chortled to himself.

"Lower your head Calcifer." He did so without complaint, still cackling. Sophie cracked four eggs in the pan, and watched them sizzle pleasantly. As they slid around in the pan, she realized how quiet it was.

"Where's Howl?" The morning lacked his usual attention-seeking antics. In fact, it was eerily quiet.

"He's bathing. Supposed to see the king today, apparently," said Michael, barely lifting up his face from his suddenly intense studying of the spell. Sophie nodded, and could smell something distinctly flowery wafting from the closed bathroom door.

"Wait. He's not taking me?" Sophie didn't think Howl was capable of handling...well anything on his own. There was no reply from fire or boy. She huffed, and flipped the eggs haphazardly, one of them hanging slightly over the edge of the pan. How could he not take her? He practically made her go deface him in front of the king, making a fool of herself, while he hid nearby in that blasted stable or whatever it was. Albeit, that was when he was literally heartless, but still. It wasn't like he changed much. He was just more emotionally open and aware, technically. And he also wasn't going to be eaten up by Calcifer. Sophie didn't remember seeing a messenger from the king. _I must've though…it was in my dream…_

"Well what's he going for?" Sophie glared at Michael, till he looked up, and blanched. Shrugging Michael pointed to Calcifer, and went over to the sink to mix a concoction. "Calcifer…" She banged the pan on his head.

"Ow ow ow Sophie! Something to do with just reporting on what happened with the Witch of the Waste." Sophie huffed, and slipped the eggs, which were slightly burnt, onto two waiting plates. She clattered Michael's on his bench, and was about to go into one of the mansion's rooms via an outer window, when the bathroom door banged open. Howl emerged, brushing a fluff of bubble soap from his shoulder. He was wearing a new suit, one Sophie had never seen before, the color of emerald green with golden thread detailing. He looked gorgeous. She felt herself swallow hard, before making for the door.

"Sophie…? Where're you running off to so quickly?" He popped in front of her, blocking her escape. She scowled, annoyed at being thwarted. He hadn't changed his hair, a shade lighter and blonder than her own, and remembered how nice it was black.

"Don't make me throw my eggs at you…" She attempted to sidestep him, but he followed her as she moved from side to side. Stamping her foot she yelled, "Move Howl, darn it!" He only smiled and put his hands on her shoulders, keeping her from moving anymore.

"Sophie dear, such a temper. Was it your dream?" He smiled lightly, and then curiously as blush flooded her cheeks.

"I'd like to know why I'm not coming with you to the King." She glared up, trying her best not to be distracted by his eyes. After he regained his heart, his eyes seem to hold endless, probing depths, in contrast to the marble-like stare they used to hold.

He made a slight moue of distaste, tapping his bottom lip. Sophie bit hers. "I didn't think you'd be interested. In any case, I'm a big boy, I can take care of myself. And besides…don't you have to look after the shop?"

Sophie huffed again. It was very hard to argue with Howl.

"And also, I wouldn't want you to feel awkward in front of the King again. And besides, it'll just be some boring meeting about the Witch, nothing of import. Anyway, I need you here, at the shop, okay? That's my girl. Stay here."

He patted her shoulder, and swept out of the door. Sophie stood where she was, slightly dazed, when Howl came back in the door, striding towards the hearth.

"Damn. I forgot we changed the…oh well. No matter. Calcifer, would you mind?"

"Not at all," said the crackling fire, and he reached out to Howl, who placed his finger on the outstretched flame.

"Lovely. Thank you." Howl banged out of the door, into the flower patch. Sophie ran over and yanked the door open again, but he was nowhere in sight. She frowned.

"Mind the shop will I? To hell with that Wizard!" Sophie couldn't help but bemoan the fact that he had not kissed her, not even a little bit.


	3. Chapter 3

*Note*

HELLO. Sorry its taken SO FLICKIN long to update. All I can say is I am so happy that junior year is nigh unto its END. However, I shall be updating more frequently as your kind reviews and favouriting has really motivated me and they've been a true delight.

_DISCLAIMER: See first chapter, can't be assed._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 3: In Which Sophie Changes Her Fashion**

Sophie paced about her room, her boots clicking on the shiny wooden floors. She was itching to grab her big, shady cloak and go to this meeting covertly, at least. She had every right to be there. She had had a direct hand in the demise of the Witch of the Waste, didn't she? A snide voice in the back of her head casually mentioned the fact that, first of all, she had let in the Witch's demon into the castle, then she'd fallen into the Witch's trap in her attempt to be a hero, and also she'd been cursed by the Witch in the first place. And the fact that she returned Howl's heart was not relevant to the meeting with the King. Sophie sat with a sigh and a thump on her lumpy bed, and told her snide voice to shut up.

Howl had said he was going to construct a brand new room for her. Sophie doubted this, as there were no spare rooms, but then again, he was a crackpot wizard who did whatever he wanted. She fingered her threadbare dress, and then looked at the boxes that held the clothes Howl had bought her. Inwardly grimacing at how many alterations she'd have to do, she flung herself backwards onto her bed. With a whack, she banged her head on the wall, having misjudged the distance, and cringed.

"OW ow ow ow…"

She dug her fingers into her red-gold hair, and clutched her aching skull.

"Sophie? You okay?" Michael's voice floated faintly in from the other room.

"Yes, I'm fine," came her muffled reply. The sparkles of pain slowly faded from her eyes. The snide voice apologetically came forth, and suggested for her to make the best of the day. She didn't need Howl to make her happy, why in fact; she shouldn't need him at all. Going to a King's meeting would only be worrisome and stressful, and besides, she really didn't have anything to wear. "Why don't you go do something you haven't done in a while?" it asked. "Something you couldn't do when you were old." Sophie tapped her lip, jutting out her lower jaw as she did. That's right. She'd do something wonderful. She pondered about visiting her mother, as she lived quite close by, but somehow her mother didn't seem like very appetizing company. However, she still hadn't seen the bakery, that would be a liable excuse, and of course Michael would be delighted to take a break from his work to visit as well. It would give him a change to practice calling Martha by her real name, and not Lettie. He seemed quite unperturbed when the sisters related their switch, but he still stumbled over Martha's name in conversation.

"That's good,' she thought. "There I can get new clothes as well with Martha, and have a tailor adjust the clothes from Howl instead." She smiled with satisfaction. Didn't she deserve to spend a bit of the hard earned money from the shop? And of surety they had plenty to spend. Howl attracted and enticed many customers, Sophie glumly thought. She then uncurled herself from the fetal position she'd taking upon whacking her head, and slid off the bed. Poking her head into the main room, she saw Michael fruitlessly plugging away at the spell.

"Hey Michael," she said. "I'm going to Market Chipping. Would you like to come?"

His head popped up immediately, a smile on his face.

"Sure!" He looked at his spell then. "I can't get this one anyway. I'll go get my coat and the…thing…for Let…eh Martha." He left his materials on the bench, and raced past Sophie upstairs. She looked to the fireplace to see if Calcifer might come, but he wasn't there. Sophie wondered to herself where in the world Calcifer spent his free time. Howl and Calcifer had worked on some week long, grueling spell so that Calcifer only had to visit the castle once a month for it to keep functioning. Since then, he'd been flitting in and out of the castle frequently.

Sophie went back to her cubby and scorned her shawl for a nice fitted jacket that was not too lose and didn't go with her dress at all. She then dug out a sack from underneath her bed that she'd found her second day in the castle, and put all the boxes of clothes into it, leaving the hat boxes and the silk stockings lovingly on the bed. After deciding not to wear a hat, she headed into the shop where Michael was waiting antsily, putting up her hair in a hasty knot. He gave her a shy smile, and went to open the door for her, but Sophie first went to the shop's register and took out a substantial amount of money.

"Now," she said to her purse. "Don't let any nasty hands in, yes?" Stoutly walking past Michael, she pointedly ignored the chagrined look upon his face, to flip the open sign on the door to 'closed'.

The day was nice and sunny; the beginning of summer, and the air was full of pleasant smells. Michael politely offered Sophie his arm, and the two walked at a brisk pace into the town. They looked a silly sight, Sophie in her mismatched clothing and her giant sack, and Michael having the distinct look of trying not to care about anything, while clutching tightly to the small package.

Soon enough, at the end of the square, they reached the bakery, where mid-morning customers were already bustling through. As they walked in, Sophie could already spot Martha's full fair hair hovering to and fro at the counter, and a familiar face that sat behind her. Michael immediately parted through crowd, and Sophie huffed behind him.

"Michael! Sophie! Oh how wonderful to see you! I've been getting so many visitors, look see here's Lettie! Oh yes, the éclairs re two each. How are you Sophie! I haven't seen you since…well you know. Oh Michael! Yes, one second, yes the bonbons do come in gift packs. Here's your change sir!"

Sophie and Michael slipped in behind the counter, where Michael immediately went to Martha's side to whisper in her ear. Lettie stood up to greet Sophie, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

"Oh Sophie, I was about to visit you right after Martha, you see I just got here, Mrs. Fairfax has been absolutely nuts preparing me for my new apprenticeship…" Lettie blushed.

"Lily, can you take over for me?" Martha rushed past them into the back, in tow of Michael. Soon after, a pleasant faced girl came forward, smiling shyly at Sophie and Lettie, before taking place at the register.

Lettie turned back to Sophie. "So how have you been?" She eyed Sophie's attire, and then her sack. "And what is _that_?"

Sophie opened her mouth to reply, when a shriek sounded out from the back. Customers stared and craned their necks curiously as Sophie and Lettie ran into the back. There, Martha stood with her hands clasped to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes, with Michael on one knee in front of her, a ring proffered with both hands. Martha then nodded vigorously, and placed on of her hands forward, upon which Michael gently put the ring. He stood up and clutched Martha to him, as she smiled and sobbed. Lettie and Sophie watched from the door. Sophie smiled, and felt a slight pang that she couldn't identify. All she knew was that Howl suddenly appeared in her mind, to which she instantly shoved him out. Michael and Martha came towards them, Michael beaming and Martha babbling.

"Oh Lettie, Sophie, look, its dragon egg pearl, you know how I love pearl, oh my heart, oh, he never said he'd get a ring, we're going to get MARRIED!"

Laughing, Lettie embraced Martha, and patted her on the back. Sophie patted Michael on the arm, and nodded at him.

"Well done Michael."

"Thank you Sophie! You know…I can't get used to you being young…" He chuckled weakly, still shaking slightly in exuberance.

Sophie smiled brightly, and cocked her head. "We've got time."

The owner of the shop came out and embraced Martha, before patting Michael resoundedly on the back. "Free honey buns for all! Our Martha is officially engaged!"

Lettie smiled and pulled Martha, Michael, and Sophie up close. "Let's all go out, oh its fine Martha dear, and celebrate. Also, I think Sophie came for a little shopping…" Lettie indicated Sophie's bag, which lay forgotten behind the counter, the clothes boxes spilling out.

Sophie soon found herself in a hair salon. Lettie had take one look at the boxes, and brought them first to Scissors, an eccentric looking shop where two assistants fell upon Sophie, took her measurements, took her clothes, and ushered them all out, urging them to come back in two days. Then, Lettie took another look at Sophie's hair and clothes, and she sighed audibly.

"For someone so skilled at the needle, you're horrible at dressing yourself," she'd said, before taking off Sophie's jacket and handing it to one of the tailor's assistants, leaving Sophie feeling very bare. Lettie had that horrible calculating look that tormented many years of her childhood. And so they ended up in at Coiffeuse, where the walls were bright pink, and frill decorated the chairs. Michael and Martha were given a seat where they could stare lovingly at each other, and Lettie took the hairdresser aside, describing something vividly with her hands. Sophie fidgeted with her hands nervously, wondering if she'd be able to make a dash for it.

Too late. The hairdresser turned to Sophie, and smiled kindly, before gently undoing the knot. It took a while, for Sophie had let it tangle, and the hairdresser frustratingly combed through the masses of ginger hair, until it hung straight, covering her like a veil, far past her elbows. As much as Sophie dreaded it, the process was very calming, the comb and the scissors like a douse of tranquility. The only interruption was Lettie's sudden suggestions, and murmurs of approval. Sophie didn't realize it was over until Lettie tapped her shoulder, and suggested she take a look. Slowly, she opened one eye, then the other, and found herself looking at a stranger. Her long hair no longer fell to her waist, but curled lightly mid-arm. It was tousled, teased, and layered, and she was given a fringe that covered most of one eye, and gave her a very mysterious look. All in all, she looked like a courtesan just out of the bedchamber. Sophie watched the blush rise in her cheeks and was about to turn and yell to the heavens at Lettie, but Lettie only grabbed her out of the chair, and was about to bring her over to Martha and Michael, but then thought the better of it, as they didn't seem to notice anything. Lettie took Sophie's purse, paid the hairdresser, and bustled them out to a café across the street. Dumping the lovebirds at a table, Lettie turned to Sophie.

"Now. I know you've a bunch of clothes at the tailor, but I do think that a man's taste is something best not to rely on. Yes obviously I know they're from Howl, you hardly ever buy yourself clothes. Please do not object, you really don't know what's best for you. And besides, once I'm finished with you, Howl won't be able to take his hands off you."

Sophie gaped at Lettie, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Everyone _knows_, and besides, you obviously haven't gotten anywhere otherwise you'd have visited sooner, and not with those lame expressions on your face. I know this fabulous place that just opened over here, Mrs. Fairfax loves them…"

Sophie let herself be dragged away by the unbeatable force named Lettie. After being poked, prodded, and turned about behind a foldable screen in a store that looked like a royal parlor in her undergarments, she was left shivering slightly, mostly in embarrassment; she waited for Lettie's choice of dress to come. Lettie came around to Sophie's side of the screen with something sinister in her hands.

"Sophie, this is a corset."

"Lettie…no. I will NOT wear that thing…it looks like some sort of torture device. I REFUSE…"

Lettie only looked grimly at Sophie, and called out for them to bring in the dress. Sophie made to demur again, and was contemplating violence, but Lettie took her by surprise, and attached the first part of the corset on, and began lacing the strings tightly. Sophie, slightly dizzy, could not bring herself to protest. A skirt, and then a surcoat was pulled onto her slight frame, and with a push from Lettie, she staggered out from behind the screen to face a mirror. The dress was an emerald green, with darker green embroidery. Her hair popped, her eyes popped, and she stared in shock at herself. Never, in her life, had she felt so pretty. Lettie tiptoed behind her, and placed a glorious hat on Sophie's head.

"Right. So, the green of course, the red, the blue, and the…" Lettie conversed with the assistant, holding Sophie's purse. Sophie just looked at her self, feeling like those gorgeous girls she'd seen parade away on May Day, like the kind of girl Howl always went after. She turned to her sister, who'd just finished haggling, and hugged her as tightly as she could in the corset, which, she admitted, made everything look quite nice, however constraining it was.

"Oh Sophie," said Lettie blushing, "This is for those lovely dresses you made me."

They walked out of the shop soon enough, Sophie clad in her new green dress, feeling wonderful, and lugging half of her new purchases.

"Sophie, I know you're having trouble with Howl…intimately…right?" They'd arrived at the café, and had taken a table near Michael and Martha. Sophie decided that this was not a time to deny everything till death, and nodded morosely.

"Well, I happened to learn a few things. And I am going to pass my knowledge unto you. I shall start with just two words. Coquette and lingerie."

Sophie blanched.


	4. Chapter 4

*NOTE* Chapter 3 had lots and lots of typos that I cringed to look at but please note that I whipped that baby up at super speed, so bear with me and my inability to be able to resubmit it.

_DISCLAIMER: Look at Chapter One, or Two, and not really so much Three._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 4: In Which Sophie Puts Her Education to Use  
**

"Coquette…and lingerie?"

"Yes. Now please pay attention Sophie, this is quite important."

Sophie put on her best listening face, one she used for Calcifer sometimes.

"I shall start with coquette, because without that, lingerie is almost nothing. You know of a man's…well…you know…well that doesn't matter and you probably wouldn't understand what I'm getting at with the word 'coquette'…"

Sophie only stared blankly at her sister, who sighed and made a flicking away motion with her hand.

"Right forget that. Basically, you need to be a 'coquette'. The specifications for one include immense amount of subtle flirting, body language, and dress. As for lingerie, that is basically very scant underclothing that will be used in two situations, the 'caught by surprise', and the 'strip', which you are definitely not up to at the moment. Right now, I shall teach you to be a Coquette. The first thing to do is poses. Now, pout your lips just like this..."

By the time Sophie got home, she was weary from carrying parcels, weary from seeing Michael's smug face, and absolutely exhausted from Lettie's lessons. She had thought her mind was the most sullied of her sisters, being the oldest, but she was so very, very wrong. Her hat tipped drunkenly off her new hair, which was disheveled and stuck to parts of her face. She didn't realize how adorable she looked, only felt sweaty and sore. And a little bit intimidated. She didn't know Lettie was so…experienced. She knew that Lettie and the Wizard Suliman had become close, but for Lettie to know all of this, she must've been with loads of boys. Sophie hadn't even been with one, and this thought followed her like a screeching harpy all the way home. And lingerie, she didn't even know there was another use for undergarments…and very small ones too. After Lettie's lesson, they'd gone to buy some, and Sophie nearly died of embarrassment. The purchases were at the very bottom of her bag.

Michael courteously carried all of Sophie's packages to her room, and Sophie slumped into one of the chairs near the fireplace. Calcifer was flickering there, looking very sleepy.

"Hey Sophie, you're home," he said, perking up a little bit. "Howl's been home for hours, and he's been annoying the whole time, what took you so long, where'd you go?"

"Oh, visiting." Sophie wearily went to take off her hat, only to find it stuck in by a comb that was sewn onto the inner brim.

"Ooo…Sophie. Nice clothes. You went shopping too? What about what Howl got you?" Calcifer seemed to eye her new clothing with a hungry look.

"I've sent it to a tailor. You don't really expect me to fix _all_ of them?" Sophie sighed, her chest heaving against her corset and dress, which she found, uncomfortably, made her breasts stick out far too much.

"Oh. It looks nice. You must have spent a lot today…"

"So what, Calcifer?!" Sophie got up abruptly, which she soon regretted as her head was attacked with a wave of dizziness. His seemingly probing interrogation annoyed her, and she went to clomp off to her room. Sophie went to the stairwell door, and went to open it, when it opened itself so quickly that she fell down in surprise.

"Sophie you're ho…! Oh. Why are you sitting on the floor Sophie?"

She brushed her hair angrily out of her face, and picked up her hat, which had finally come off.

"I wouldn't be if the door suddenly decided to try and whack me in the face," she said icily, glaring with all her might. The snide voice reminded her that this was in complete violation of Lettie's lesson. Sighing, she swallowed her anger, and managed a small smile, taking Howl's proffered hand, and not letting go when she got up.

"Sorry Howl, I didn't mean to snap at you." Hesitantly, she placed her other hand on his chest, and tapped her fingers slowly. "How are you? How did the meeting go?"

Howl took a second to respond, taken unawares by Sophie's sudden proximity and mood change. She smiled.

"Erm, I'm fine thank you. The meeting was dull. Sophie, where did you get this dress?" He looked slightly hurt, besides confused.

"Oh, well, you know the clothes you got me were…well…suited for me as an old woman…so I went out and got them tailored…and got a few clothes for the meantime." She used the pout she'd practiced with Lettie till her lips were sore, and looked up at Howl through her eyelashes, pressing herself a tiny bit closer.

"Oh…well that's fine then, though you could've just asked me. Sophie, you seem a bit…off…are you unwell?" He felt her forehead with the hand she was holding, and with the same motion moved out of reach of Sophie's delicate fingers.

"No. Why?" She practiced the little cock of her head that Lettie assured her men loved.

"You're acting a bit strange…and rather girly; not very Sophie-esque at all…it's worrisome. Did you eat something odd?" He stepped away from her, but his expression still held confused concern.

Sophie's face fell a little bit. Lettie did assure her that men loved what she was doing. She felt so stupid, like those no-brain girls she despised on May Day, like the girl, she realized, she was starting to become. Or perhaps she was 'laying it on too thick', as Lettie had warned her against. Lettie also might've mentioned something about aloofness or rather…what was it? She couldn't recall.

"Oh…well, maybe you don't really know me after all," she said, not entirely making sense.

Brushing by him, entirely regretting that performance, she sat on her bed after flicking her curtain closed. It took a while and a considerate amount of straining to unbutton the back of her dress, and another hour to figure out how to take the corset off. Her stomach expanded in relief, and she clutched her aching ribs. As she slipped back into the comfort of her grey dress, she heard Michael enthusiastically relating his day to Howl and Calcifer. Still slightly mortified, she pulled her hair into a bun, and stuck all the layered flyaway bits with pins, and crept into the main room to prepare dinner. Everything felt awkward, even though Howl was half listening to Michael and Michael wasn't really paying attention to much but his story.

Without looking up, Howl said softly, "I ordered dinner earlier tonight, to give you a break, if that's alright with you." He gestured to a small pile of boxes on the table that Sophie hadn't noticed.

"Oh…yes, okay." Her voice sounded as meek as she felt as she voiced her lacking response. She sat down then on the chair by the fire, not exactly willing to go near Howl.

"Why aren't you wearing your nice dress Sophie?" Calcifer, apparently being oblivious, yawned over his logs, and stretched his tiny flame arms over them.

"That's more of an outing dress Calcifer."

"Oh. You should wear it more often." Sophie gave him a small smile.

"Sophie, ready to eat?" Michael popped up cheerily by Sophie's side. She nodded, and went to the table. Michael had already distributed the food; a chicken pie and slices of bread, with a surprising pile of string beans. Howl, for once, was sitting there quietly eating, instead of disappearing to his room, or to the bath. In fact, as Sophie surveyed him, he looked quite thin and haggard compared to his usual appearance. At least he was eating.

Sophie sat down next to Michael, who was eating enthusiastically, after giving Calcifer another log. The pot pie looked delicious; the crust fine and buttered; the chicken juicy and succulent, with peas spilling out of the sides. The look of it immediately made Sophie feel like gagging. So, swirling a fork in, she picked out all the pieces of chicken, then the peas, and then pulled at the sauce that oozed out. There was no conversation to be heard, and Sophie fidgeted awkwardly, before placing a bean in her mouth. It was tasteless. Unable to bear the silence, she turned to Michael, who'd just finished eating.

"So Michael, when is the wedding?"

He turned to her thoughtfully. "Well, we were going to wait until we finished out apprenticeships initially, but now we are thinking of doing it sooner…so…you know…we'd be married…" He blushed. "But we'd just have to live apart for awhile if we did, not unlike now."

Sophie nodded sagely, pretending she knew exactly what he was implying.

"You should ask Lettie to help. She knows all these places for everything…" Sophie scrunched her nose in unpleasant remembrance.

"Oh right, she took you to get your hair done, and stuff."

Sophie nodded, a hand self-consciously rising to pat her pinned hair. At this time, Howl looked up, and glanced at Sophie who froze slightly at his penetrating gaze, before standing up and walking silently upstairs, taking the rest of his food with him.

"What's gotten into him?" Michael asked.

Sophie shrugged lightly, guessing rightly that it had to with her somehow, and went up to give the rest of her uneaten food to Calcifer.


	5. Chapter 5

_DISCLAIMER:_ _ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie. _

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 5: In Which Sophie Sees Nightmares  
**

Sophie awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of growling from above. She wondered what it could be, as they obviously didn't have a dog anymore, Michael was staying the night at the bakery, and Calcifer wasn't…prone to animalistic noises, so that would only mean Howl, but he wasn't much of a sleep talker. Slipping on a robe over her frilly nightgown, she peeked into the main room, to see Calcifer's head barely peeking above the charred logs. The room was completely silent. And then a shout of anger, then pleading whimpers came from upstairs again. It was definitely Howl. Or maybe, Sophie hoped, some weird creature Howl conjured or created and hid somewhere in a hole in the castle…

The whimpering turned to heavy sighing, like dry sobs.

Sophie sighed, tied her robe on tightly, and made her way up the creaking stairs. His door loomed into view, the noises becoming louder, and gaining coherency. Tucking a hair behind her ear, she knocked on his door lightly.

"Howl?"

The sighs only grew softer. Sophie tried the door, and it swung silently open. In the midst of his clutter, he lay half covered by a quilt with faded patterns and colors, sprawled on his bed in the clothes he was wearing earlier. He turned onto his side, and his fingers were digging into his mattress. He had a distinct look of frustration on his face. Sophie began to walk towards him, when a movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Turning her head, she noticed that his windows held images again, but they weren't exactly his family.

There was the Witch of the Waste's demon as Lily Angorian, flitting around a red-haired girl, measuring her arm with a tape measure. Then the image flickered to the demon cackling as she ate Calcifer. Images flickered about his family, and then they went back to the red haired girl, who Sophie realized was, in fact, she. She was twirling in the middle of the Market Chipping square, where everyone was dancing, and she was wearing the green dress she'd worn earlier that day. She was dancing with Michael, Prince Justin, the Wizard Suliman, the King, and other random men. Howl seemed to reach out to try and dance with her, but she just twirled away, until Howl finally caught her arm. Immediately, the dream Sophie began to shrivel and shrink, turning old, grey, and wrinkled. The old Sophie fell into the dream Howl's arms, and died. Just as the real Sophie watched agape, the dream changed again, showing Sophie meek in her grey dress, and Howl laughing, hugging her gently. The dream melted into a picture of a young Howl, being severely chastised by someone who looked like his father, his father who was unbuckling his belt and holding it menacingly…then the dream changed again to show Sophie, tied onto a fire pier, the Witch of the Waste chuckling as she held a lit torch, with Sophie silently screaming. The dream Howl raced to the pier, but it seemed to get farther and farther away, and Sophie watched her dream self burn to death.

Sophie was so engrossed in this vivid display, that only a loud cry of agony broke her from her reverie. Jerking her eyes away from the disturbing images, she hurried to the bedside, deciding that it might be better if Howl woke up to stop such terrifying nightmares; regardless if he awoke to find out she'd been inadvertently spying on his dreams, and inappropriately wandering in her nightclothes.

Her slim figure hardly made a dent on the bed as she sat down.

"Howl, Howl wake up…Howl?"

She shook his chest slightly with her hands, and then brushed the hair out of his face, lightly shaking his head.

"Howl? You need to wake up." She gently patted his cheek, and shook his shoulder with one hand.

His eyes flickered beneath his eyelids, and his breath shortened, and then, his eyes opened wide, not seeing for a bit, as they focused in and out.

"Howl?" Sophie looked down at him, wondering if he was sane.

"Sophie…" The name came out as a gasp. "Oh Sophie!" His arms came up and enveloped her, pulling her down into a back-breaking hug. Sophie's eyes widened in shock, as Howl repeated her name over and over, clutching her tightly, and digging his face into her hair. Awkwardly, Sophie managed to pat his shoulder with a few fingers that weren't being crushed.

"There…there there…" As she spoke, Howl seemed to wake up properly, and let go of her abruptly, sitting up against the headboard. Befuddled, Sophie sat back, and hugged herself instead, feeling the lack of his warmth.

"I apologize, I was…I was not myself." He looked fully abashed.

"Oh its fine, you were, you were talking in your sleep kind of, you were having nightmares, and so I thought it would be best to wake you, I'm sorry…" Sophie looked up at him beseechingly, hoping that he wasn't angry. But as she looked, he didn't look angry, he looked shy, and there was something hungry in his gaze as he let his eyes meet hers. At that moment, randomly, Sophie remembered that part of the Witch's curse had something to do when Howl became 10,000 days old…painfully calculating that in her mind, she realized he was much older than she was, by at least eight years, or more. Sophie blanched, and all of a sudden realized how inappropriate it was that she was even in Howl's house, under his stairs, and she was embracing him in his bed! She felt color rise to her cheeks in a rush, and she made to get up and leave.

"Well, I must be going, and let you get some proper sleep…"

She turned to leave, but Howl caught her hand, and as she turned, she saw his face was a bit flustered.

"Would you…stay? Just until I fall asleep. I…am…you calm…me." He dropped her hand, and to her surprise, his face looked almost as red as she thought hers might be.

"Well…" She made to say it wouldn't be appropriate, but he had such a look of suffering on his face. Sophie remembered the nightmares he had, and sighed. "Yes, till you fall asleep." She went back to sit on his bed, and he moved over a bit, so she'd have more room. Settling back onto his pillow, he looked up at Sophie, making her feel bothered.

"Thank you Sophie. I never said how nice your hair looks…"

"Thanks Howl…" She felt better when he closed his eyes, turning off that penetrating look that, she realized, was not unsimilar to Mrs. Pentstemmon's. She held his hand lightly, and waited till his breathing became slower. Almost immediately, his face turned into a frown, and his breathing grew frantic. Bewildered, Sophie looked at his windows, but it was only darkness. Looking back at Howl, she could see him perspiring, and felt his hand twitch. Instinctively, she reached out and brushed his forehead, pulling his hair to the side, brushing it and stroking the top of his head.

She figured it worked, for as she glanced over her shoulder at the windows, the darkness had been replaced by a glowing light, like the sun a little bit before it began to set. Sophie sat like that for what seemed to be hours, delicately petting his head, playing with his hair, and fighting to stay awake. The night was warm, and her back started to ache from sitting, and her legs began to tingle, so she decided it might not hurt to just lie down on the bed, so she'd be more comfortable. Without stopping her petting, she slipped off her slippers, and swiveled her hips so that she lay on partly her stomach, partly on her side, on the bed, still in arms reach of Howl's face. Her eyes began to droop, and she'd find herself falling asleep and not realizing it. Lifting her hand off of Howl's face, getting ready to leave, she was devastated to see that the windows turned black immediately, and so she put her hand back on, tiredly touching him, feeling a little miffed. However, she didn't dare stop, not wanting to be the reason his nightmares reoccurred. She paused in her patting after a while, her fingers grazing his ear and her arm feeling sore, but the windows stayed glowing. So, a bit happier, she just kept her hand on his face, and soon enough, she fell asleep, her fingers curled against his cheek. They made a pretty picture, curled next to each other in the release of slumber.

She dreamed of butterflies landing on her hair and cheeks, their slight pressures feeling pleasant.


	6. Chapter 6

*NOTE* I was reading on Wikipedia some little blurbs about the book, as I forgot Prince Justin's name and it was bothering me, and interestingly enough, it stated Lettie was 17, something I definitely missed, so I am placing Sophie's age at 19, as it is kind of unknown. Which doesn't make it much better for her and Howl, as he's 27.(After writing this note, a review was submitted by IWantAWerewolfToImprintOnMe . No, 10,000 days old approx. equals 27. Lol)

Haha. No matter though, age is not a problem when it comes to twoo wuv. I like to think he has been so changed by the magic he has used to make himself look beautiful, that he will stay looking younger than he really is. :D

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 6: In Which Sophie Moves**

Sophie woke up in the warm dimness of the room, feeling content and slightly disoriented. A quilt was draped over her, and a pillow placed under her head a bit awkwardly. Rubbing her eyes blearily, she wondered why there were so many spider webs above her bed, when the night's previous events dawned upon her. After a second of shock, she sat up abruptly, her hair flying about her face, and she whipped off the quilt, making for the exit. Horrified at the fact she had spent the night in bed with a man, no less Howl, she didn't pay any attention to where she was going, and slammed right into the door, whacking her head again. Sophie rubbed her head woefully, and fiercely told herself it didn't matter how close they'd become when she was old; she was young now, and all of life's social restrictions had slammed right back down with the breaking of her curse. Only now was she really feeling it, painfully. Wincing, she flung the door open, and had made it to the top of the stairs when she heard voices.

"Oh, why don't I just wake her up? I miss my Sophie, and there is so much we need to…"

"She really needs her sleep. Why don't you come back later?"

"No, no, she won't mind, she sleeps under the stairs doesn't she? It's just fine, I'll go and…"

"Please, I must insist…!"

The door to the stairs was opened widely, and Sophie saw her step-mother racing through, her face shining, with Howl trailing behind her, helplessly.

"Oh Sophie! Wake up my dear! Wake…why, where is Sophie?" Fanny disappeared as she moved to Sophie's bed.

"Why, her bed is cold! I thought you said she was sleeping!" She reappeared as she flew at Howl, poking him vigorously in the chest with an accusatory finger. Howl, for once at a loss for words, and merely gaped sheepishly, and his eyes frantically looked around as he thought of an excuse. They froze as they reached Sophie, who was a statue at the top of the stairs; a bunny in the middle of the meadow during hunting season. Fanny followed his gaze, and turned to see Sophie; the picture of impropriety, wide eyed on the landing, wearing nothing but her flimsy nightgown, and her hair mussed in an orange halo about her face. Sophie gulped slowly as Fanny's face went through about three different colors, showed shock, embarrassment, and then dawning implications, and Sophie realized that she'd better do something.

"Oh, hello Fan…Mother, I was just at the balcony, and the view is lovely but a bit windy…"

Fanny narrowed her eyes at Sophie suspiciously, and made to go up the stairs, but Sophie raced down as Howl put his arms around Fanny's shoulders and steered her back into the main room.

"I really should get dressed, Mother…"

"Now, why don't we have some tea while Sophie gets ready…?"

As soon as the door closed, Sophie flew at her clothing. Not even deigning to put on the corset, Sophie pulled on the blue version of the green dress, finding that it fit perfectly fine without her waist being strangled, and viciously combed through her hair, yanking out several strands of red-gold. In a matter of minutes, she pulled in a deep calming breath, and walked purposefully slow into the next room. Fanny was sitting at the table, looking more than a little peeved, as Howl busily bustled at the fireplace, coaxing a fire to emerge, as Calcifer was out, and he seemed to be purposefully taking his time. When Sophie came in, he looked up, and sent her a quick smile, before actually getting the tea ready. Smiling, Sophie went and sat across from Fannie, who didn't say anything to Sophie until Howl brought three steaming cups of tea to the table. Sophie fidgeted uncomfortably under Fanny's parentally intent look and gladly shoved her tea cup to her lips as an excuse to do something, ignoring how the hot water scalded her tongue.

Howl made to sit, but Fanny immediately put out a hand, and a strained smile.

"If you wouldn't mind Howl, I would appreciate if Sophie and I could talk by ourselves."

Howl, looking half relieved, and half worried, nodded, and bowed, before sending a glance and a raised eyebrow at Sophie, who just looked at him as if she were about to receive a death sentence. As soon as Howl's footsteps died away into his room, Fanny turned on Sophie, her eyes blazing.

"What in the world were you doing Sophie Hatter?" Sophie cringed as Fanny hissed menacingly. "Wandering about in your nightgown? Lying to me? Don't bother, when I was here last I saw no other rooms or doors when we went up to Howl's….mess. Wait, don't answer me, I bet that awful wizard is eavesdropping right now...let's go."

Fanny scraped out of her chair, and grabbed her purse and Sophie's arm with a clawed grip, dragging them out of the door into the entranceway of the mansion entrance. There was a carriage waiting outside, and Fanny shoved Sophie ungracefully into it, before allowing the footman to give her a hand in. Poking her head out the window, she asked the driver to take them into the hillsides. Sophie blanched. The hillsides were unpopulated, and there would be no witnesses to whatever Fanny wanted to throw at her.

Sighing, and holding a hand to her head, Fanny gazed sideways at Sophie, looking suddenly very old.

"Sophie, dear, I came to talk to you about some things, and what I saw today has only reinforced my opinion. You are a young girl now, already 19, and you can't act the same way you were able to when you were 90. There are certain delicacies of society which cannot be breached, and you staying at this man's home, under his staircase no less is absolutely atrocious, and I cannot bear to endure it while I have a big home full of rooms and am able to take you in and keep you proper. Lettie is already planning to move in, and Martha might as well. And after today, seeing you in your nightgown, I couldn't help but think of such improper, horrid things that you, as a young unmarried girl, should not be doing at all. In any case, _whether or not you have been guilty of misconduct_, I want you to come and live with me. You may still visit Market Chipping of course; it's not a far carriage ride away, and there is also that amazing door, although I'd like you to keep your visits to…Howl…at a minimum. You know, proper courting and what not. It isn't right that, with such feelings as you have for each other, to live with each other without any supervision or being married."

Sophie nearly choked as Fanny scolded her ferociously. Usually, Fanny let Sophie do what she liked, since usually what Sophie liked Fanny didn't care for, or didn't find remotely dangerous or risky. Sophie could only meekly sit there under the berating, and even when she opened her mouth to deny any sort of…_fling_ with Howl, she was cut down, and so she stayed silent. In any case, Fanny was speaking the fears that Sophie had begun to realize, and in the end, she knew it was for the best. And it wasn't as if she was leaving Ingary. Howl would be just down the street, with Michael and Calcifer, and she'd still be able to work at the flower shop. Sophie nodded in acquiescence with the end of her mother's tirade, and Fanny nodding happily at her easy acceptance.

"Oh we'll have so much fun, I heard you went shopping with Lettie, we can get so many dresses if you like, and hats, oh there are the most wonderful hats this year, and you'll just love the estate, the gardens are giant and sprawling, and we have horses and a stable, so you could learn to ride if you like…"

Sophie nodded, half listening, mostly tuning out Fanny's voice. She didn't like to know what kind of reaction would be received when she gave Howl the news. Soon enough, they were turning back up to the castle's mansion entrance.

"I'll come by in an hour for your things dear."

Sophie nodded, and didn't look at Fanny's smug face as she made her way up to the door, pushing it open with a sigh. Howl, unsurprisingly, was pacing madly between the fireplace and the table, with Calcifer voicing calming words to no avail. Only when Sophie cleared her throat did Howl notice her arrival. Stopping in the middle of one of his circuits, he looked up, and then bounded across to Sophie, taking her into a light hug, before letting her go and resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Did I get you in trouble? Is everything alright?" He looked so distressed, like a little boy who thought he had lost his father's golden cufflinks, when really they had just been moved elsewhere.

"Oh, it's just fine; Fanny was a bit shocked to see me so undressed in your presence…" She bit her lip, trying to figure out how she should word her news. Fingering the side of her dress, she looked down.

"I'm going to be moving in with my mother today."

-----

*End note*

Sorry this is a bit short, all my creative juices currently are flowing towards another story I'm writing that I hope to publish in the future. It's AWESOME D: If you want a preview of it, an unedited first chapter of it is on deviantArt, one I submitted in October ._.

My DA name is Charlie-Sama. The submission is called TheKingdom freewrite. ^-^ Feel free to look!


	7. Chapter 7

*Note*

I am so so so so so so sorry for not updating and I shall update more and more since school has come to its end and I shall instinctively avoid studying for finals. I'm not one to put in lots of fluff, I like to leave my readers cloying for the lemon, but I shall accede and possibly put in some yum smut soon.

But, you know how much reviews inspire me. How very much.

Also, as an after note, IN NO WAY IS EDWARD RELATED TO TWILIGHT. God. Or FMA. As much as I luff it 3

Okay moving on.

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 7: In Which Sophie Meets Someone New**

It had been a month since Sophie had moved out, and Howl was still giving her the 'look'. The look when she'd first told him, the look when she'd moved an hour later, the look he was giving her now. It was full of dejection, apprehension, and a smoldering sense of emotion that Sophie couldn't quite place.

She sat morosely in the summer heat, her head nesting on a propped hand. The flowers, feeding on her emotions and suffering from the heat, were wilting in their buckets and vases. Business was slow, and Sophie could feel the nonexistence of her social life creeping in on her like an unwanted leech. She'd failed to mention to Howl that her mother was allowing certain proper courting privileges, and it wasn't as if she could bring that up casually now. In fact, she wondered if she really wanted to anyway. That would be something Howl needed to initiate. At the moment though, he was sitting lazily in a chair near the opened door, practicing hand ice spells with Michael. Flickers of light reflecting from the ice shone onto Sophie's face. Work had been nearly miserable, and living with Fanny was even worse. Michael didn't seem perturbed as he visited Martha often, but Calcifer and Howl were taking it personally, especially Howl. Neither would initiate conversations with her, and Michael was frequently visiting Martha while Sophie was in the shop. Michael was too preoccupied with getting married for proper company. And the long, hot nights were full of restless dreams of Howl; dreams that made Sophie shudder even in the summer heat. She sighed, and as if he sensed her aura, Howl shot her another look that practically shouted abandonment. It was nauseating. She shuddered again, but in annoyance. It was a Saturday, and she hadn't taken even one day off since she started working in the shop.

Decisively, she pushed out of her chair with a loud scrape, feeling a cool breeze on her sweat dampened back, and picked up her hat.

"I'm going to shut shop for today." She walked over and flipped the sign so that it stated 'closed' in bold letters, before heading into the other room. Calcifer, as usual, was out.

"Where are you going Sophie?" asked Michael, of course.

Market Chipping. But I'm going to head home and change."

She hurried through the magic door before Michael could rattle on about Martha, and sped down the cobbled drive. The day was incredibly warm, and Sophie hyperventilated in her cloistering clothing. She planned on changing into that white dress Lettie had manipulated her into buying as fast as she could. In a few minutes, she would be walking into the cool foray of her mother's house, and she comforted herself with the thought. However, when she walked in, the foray was as hot as outside, as all the windows were closed, and no one was home. Lettie was traveling with the Wizard Suliman, Martha was working in Market Chipping, and Fanny was on some sort of tennis outing. Dreading the lengthy stairs, Sophie clicked her way through the echoing halls to the entrance of the servants' quarters, where there was a convenient lift. She closed the door behind her as she stepped in, and pressed the button labeled 4. With a few lurches and screeches, the lift finally opened, and a queasy Sophie pushed open the landing door. This floor held Lettie's apartments to the west, and Sophie's to the east.

East went Sophie, swinging her hat in front of her face like a fan. As soon as she made it into her bedroom chamber, she flung open the French doors and was rewarded with a cool, persistent breeze, and then opened the other windows in the room, before stripping out of her cloying green dress, letting it fall to a puddle on the floor. Lately she hadn't bothered wearing corsets. The air felt so good as she stood in her undergarments, and not for the first time that month did she wish she could just go out as is. However, that would definitely not be the case. Imagine if people saw her; if _Howl_ saw her. She blushed.

To the right of her vanity was the entrance to a spacious walk in closet that easily accommodated her relatively small amount of clothing. It was slightly humid and oven-like when she stepped in, and as soon as she made out the white dress, she grabbed it, and hurried to the better circulated room with it in tow. Carelessly throwing it on the bed, she went to the vanity, which held a bowl and pitcher of water. The water splashed into the bowl as she tilted the pitcher, and she splashed her face and arms with pleasure, wiping off the water and the sweat with a towel. Patting her face, she walked back to the bed, and looked at the dress speculatively. It popped out slightly from the off white bedding, and she realized it was not the dress she had bought at all. It was one of the dresses she'd had tailored, a dress from Howl. It was shorter than her other dresses, being that they'd not bothered to augment the dress with tool, or something similar. It would work wonderfully.

Minutes later, she ran down the giant spiral staircase, her dress fluttering behind her as she held onto her hat. The doorbell rang again, and she'd barely pulled on her white kid gloves before it opened tentatively. A sheepish Michael waved a hand through the gap in the door, and Sophie forced a smile.

"I could've just met you at the shop."

"I know, but I barely see you, so…" Michael smiled sheepishly again, and rubbed the back of his head. Sophie smiled and patted his arm, and they walked back to Howl's mansion, making small talk about the increasingly warm weather. When they arrived in the shop, Howl was nowhere to be seen.

"Has Howl gone out?" Sophie asked.

"No, I think he said he would be coming. He's in the bath I think." Michael's eyes distracted lingered towards the door that led to Market Chipping.

"Well, let's go then." Sophie definitely did not want to wait for Howl, and they tacitly made their way out of the door, and went at a fast walk down into town.

"Michael, why don't you head down to Cesari's? I'm going to stop at this café." They'd reached downtown, and had slowed down their frantic pace to escape the possibility of the company of Howl.

"Are you sure Sophie? Don't you want to come?" Michael looked down at her conscientiously, but she could see how he longed to be with Martha. She had a stinking suspicion that Martha was getting advice from Lettie, and using it well. And she had another feeling that panged her in the stomach that Martha was getting a bit more…experienced. Sophie felt deprived and her mood immediately became short.

"Yes, Michael. Its fine," she snapped. Sighing at Michael's hurt face she apologized, and assured him that all she wanted to do was have a cool drink and sit by herself for a bit.

It was still a bit before the rush for lunch, and Sophie easily found a table by the open window of the café. They had taken the glass down to let in more cool air into their circulating fans. After receiving a cool a glass of water and ordering a sandwich, she commenced into her morose pose once again, propping her chin on the back of a hand, and stared at the passing people with a glazed, pensive look. The crowd soon thickened as people gleefully took their lunch hour. The café grew louder, and the sound of clinking cups and tapping utensils made their way into Sophie's glazed daydream. She'd been fingering the bottom of her lip with her free hand, the slickness of the soft kid gloves making her feel affectionate…and…wanting. She didn't notice the waiter trying to capture her attention until he tapped her shoulder.

"Miss?"

"Hm…oh yes?" Sophie looked up distractedly. The waiter, disconcerted by her subtle beauty, cleared his throat before reiterating his query.

"We're running out of tables, and since you are the only one here, we were wondering if you would mind sharing?"

"Oh…" Sophie recoiled slightly at the idea of having to share, and having to actually socialize with someone she didn't know, but as she looked around, she could see people hungrily waiting for lunch, and wasn't it time that she stepped out of her comfort zone? Wasn't she wishing for something new in her life?

"If you don't want to miss…"The waiter mistook her hesitation for a no.

"Oh, no, no, please, I wouldn't mind at all." She smiled lightly, and the waiter bowed slightly before stepping away to gesture someone over.

A young man slid into the chair across from her, and smiled shyly. He was young, maybe a year older than Sophie, with shaggy brown hair, and dark brown eyes. He dressed for the weather in a light white suit, and she could see he was from a well off background.

"Good afternoon, thank you for gracing me with your presence and your table." He spoke softly, with an accent that told Sophie that he was well educated. He also was so polite that Sophie felt embarrassed.

"It really isn't a problem. It would be rude of me to selfishly hold this table to myself, what with so many waiting in line for lunch." She nodded thoughtfully, and removed her hat from the table self-consciously. The waiter came by, and took the man's order for a sandwich, before the man leant in towards her.

"So what brings you to Market Chipping, Miss…?"

"Hatter. Sophie, Sophie Hatter." She blushed lightly, and hoped it would only blend in with the flush she had from the heat.

"Miss Hatter. A pleasure to have your acquaintance. I am Edward Atkin."

"How nice to meet you Mr. Atkin."

"Please, feel free to call me Edward." He smiled lightly, his eyes flickering down to his hands.

"Edward then. I suppose you may call me Sophie then?"

"I am honored." Her eyes crinkled in a smile at his politeness. He was so kind, so conscientious, so mature. So unlike a certain someone.

"So, Sophie," Edward sipped from his water. "What brings you to Market Chipping? I pride myself in knowing many faces here, but yours is one I'm not familiar with."

Sophie blushed, and fiddled with the tip of one of her gloves.

"Well, I was born here, and worked in the old hat shop, that is now the flower shop I work in."

"Ah yes, the Hatters. How could I forget? But I've see Martha and Lettie a lot more than I've seen you Sophie."

"Oh well, I…left for a while."

Edward leaned in interestedly, and Sophie felt flustered from the attention.

"It's a long story…"

"I've got time."

"Ah, well, you know of the late Witch of the Waste? Well, one night, when I was closing the shop…"

Time passed indeed, and the café slowly dwindled down to its usual capacity, people rushing back to their impending jobs. Edward listened with quiet fascination as Sophie retold the past few months of her life, with a few personal edits, and Sophie learned of Edward's business as a town event organizer.

"So you were responsible for the May Parade this year?"

"That I was. Thought I still can't believe you lived with the Wizard Howl."

"Wow, it was amazing!"

"_At least what I saw of it…_" thought Sophie.

"And living with Howl wasn't the least bit as exciting..." Sophie wondered if she was truly lying to herself, but batted the thought away.

"Thank you. It's nice to hear appreciation for my work. And, as you say, although Wizards lives always seem to be so exciting." Edward smiled softly, and Sophie had to look away from him to prevent herself from ogling at his beauty.

The sun was golden and falling slowly in the sky when Edward abruptly took out his pocket watch, and glanced at it with an aghast expression.

"Ah, my dear Sophie, it has been an absolute pleasure talking with you, but I fear I am late for an appointment." He stood up from his chair, and Sophie stood with him. Taking her hand, he kissed it lightly.

"Might I call upon you in your flower shop?"

"Oh, yes, of course." Sophie smiled, feeling a bit more comfortable with his chivalrous personality.

"I apologize profusely for leaving you so abruptly, but I intend to see you soon. Until then, Miss Hatter."

"Mr. Atkin."

He bowed lightly, before briskly making his way into the street, and catching the street trolley as it came on by in the most graceful way. He left Sophie standing speechless.


	8. Chapter 8

*Note*

To me, Edward is like, Squall Lionheart…with a Mr. Darcy suit.

A reference link, for those unfortunate enough to be unacquainted with Final Fantasy 8. However, if you like to keep your own idea of characters, do not feel obligated to check it out. In fact, don't feel obligated at all in any case. :}

brainleakage . deviantart . com/art/Squall-10834549

And also, thank you for the reviews 3 I'm so motivated right now, I'm even ready to do physics review. o: Imagine that.

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 8: In Which Sophie is Confused**

A few coins passed from Sophie's gloved hand onto the table, and she left the café slightly dazed. Memories of Edward Atkin randomly passed through her mind, making her feel jittery and embarrassed, so much that she felt everyone was staring accusingly at her, and so she pulled at the brim of her hat, shadowing her flushed and perturbed face. The day's glow was turning a crimson orange, and the late afternoon crowd was petering as she headed down to Cesari's. For some reason, Sophie needed to share her rather exciting experience. As an old woman, the idea of entertaining the company of such a refined man would not have bothered in the slightest. However, as Fanny had annoyingly pointed out to her weeks ago, Sophie was a young woman, and this man was interested in her, as a young woman. And even more so, he was young, chivalrous, and beautiful. No one had ever taken the time before to 'talk her up'. She was always busy in the hat shop, always following the path of the eldest. No one had noticed her at all, except Howl.

Howl.

Sophie felt a sudden surge of guilt. Here she was, mooning over a man she barely knew, after having been so emotionally tied to Howl even before her curse was broken. She remembered those very first moments, after the curse was broke, captivated in Howl's gaze. That is, until Calcifer zoomed back in, and Sophie didn't have a moment alone with Howl for the rest of the day. She remembered how she wistfully thought of how tenderly Howl had gazed at her, and how somehow, the next day, he was as cordial as he'd been when she was an old biddy. He seemed to have gone back to 'normal'. Except for her perhaps, for Howl visited her dreams incessantly since.

But Howl seemed to not be interested, at least, not anymore.

Sophie pulled her hat down even more in exasperation. What was she doing anyway? She'd just met this…this Edward Atkin. Nothing could, or perhaps would happen. They could be just friends, acquaintances. It's not as if one meeting declared anything, and as for Howl, she wasn't really tied to him, except as friends she supposed. As _friends_. The word made her cringe, as if that was not the term she would constitute their relationship as, but what indeed would she classify it as? Exactly. As friends, then.

Sophie repeated those two words as she pushed open the door to Cesari's, the little bell clanging her arrival. Pushing her hat up, she peered around the shop, her eyes adjusting to the different lighting. Surprisingly, it wasn't busy, with only a few customers seated. No one was waiting by the register, and behind it Michael and Martha were having an intense conversation that looked quite serious. All of a sudden, Sophie felt disinclined to share her story with Martha. It all seemed so…trivial now. As if it no longer mattered. Her purpose for coming was spent, and so she turned towards the doorway, and stepped aside as a customer came through.

"Ah Sophie, have we grown apart so that you will not greet me in public?"

She looked up in confusion, to see that Howl was staring bemusedly down at her.

"Oh, sorry Howl, I wasn't paying attention," she said apologetically, nervously pulling at her hat so that she could see.

"Why, I've been looking for you all afternoon," he sighed. "I feel like the two of you have been avoiding me. And Calcifer. No one wants to spend time with me these days."

Sophie blanched at Howl's sudden change of expression, from cynical to morose in one go, and it was hard concentrating when Howl blocked her only way of escape, his frame looming over her small one.

"Oh, well, if you'd like to accompany me, I'm thinking of going to…to the Bestiary…" Sophie thought quickly of a place for them to go, otherwise Howl would stare emotional daggers at her for another month.

"What for?"

"Well, I…kind of miss having a dog, and I thought I'd get one. Or a pet of some…sorts…" Sophie trailed off as Howl stared intently at her. It was so hard to concentrate, and she was having trouble breathing properly.

"I would indeed like to accompany you," he said, breaking his gaze suddenly and staring off at the ceiling fan. "I myself was thinking of acquiring a nice animal…for Michael and Martha's wedding present of course."

Sophie nodded—letting out a breath of release as his gaze left hers—even though Howl most likely wouldn't catch it, and allowed herself to be steered out of the doorway into the street.

However, a few hours later, neither had succeeded in finding the Bestiary.

"Sophie, are you quite sure Market Chipping has a bestiary," said Howl in frustration. They had been wandering the streets, far from Main Street, in search of a place Sophie realized was only in Kingsbury. But there was no way she would admit such a mistake to Howl. That would lead to another set of evil glares, and she didn't think she'd be able to withstand more.

"Yes." Sophie stated the word as stoutly as she could, mustering as much confidence in her tone as possible. Howl sighed, and once again raked a hand through his hair, which was starting to stick up in odd directions.

It was getting late. The moon was already shining brightly with its blanket of stars, and the cool night air had just begun to blow away the day's heat. The streets were silent, except for their footsteps, and if there had been a bestiary, it would most likely have been closed half an hour ago.

"Well…maybe," she said, quickly jumping from her accession to being wrong. "Though I _do_ recall such a bestiary, it would probably be closed now. Let's go home." Her mouth turned down in a delicate moue, she started in the direction of the flower shop. She had gone a few steps, when she realized he wasn't following. Turning around, she made to beckon, when Howl ran forward, and caught her by the hand, pulling her close to him with a desperate look on his face.

"Sophie? Why did you leave? Did I do something wrong? I was making your room; I swear I was, you know those things take time. Was it the shop? You don't have to work anymore if you don't want to, I know it must be boring and then having to cook and clean after the three of us, but we need you Sophie, none of us can really cook like you do, and the castle is turning into a wreck without you, even Calcifer can't bear to stay for more than a few minutes." His gaze was so intense; Sophie felt she might start hyperventilating. In fact, the whole situation might have been comical if not for Howl's serious expression.

"I…"

"We need you Sophie," breathed Howl softly. "I need you."

Her eyes widened and she felt her mouth wobble agape like a fish.

"I…well…you see, I told you Howl it was nothing to do with any of you, Fanny is just so particular now that I'm…young, and she believes its improper for me to live in the same quarters as you being that…what did she say, being that we're supposedly courting, wherever she got that notion, and I suppose she wanted Lettie and Martha and me to all be with her again since she was guilty or something about…"

Howl grabbed her, and she stopped rambling immediately.

"Is that what you want Sophie? Do you want me to court you?"

He was so close; she could smell the fading sweetness of his perfume, and the underlying scent of his real smell, the one that haunted her dreams. His eyes bore down into her, making her limbs go soft, and his lips, oh, it was just like her dreams. Her dreams. What if this was a dream? Would that mean that this moment would all end and she'd awake hot and uncomfortable in her overly feathered four poster? The thought made tears well up in her eyes, and, her arms being pinned to her sides, she was unable to dash them away with her fingers.

Howl's face softened, and lifted a hand to brush away the wetness, before pulling her close against his chest.

"We'll go home."

The air swirled around them, and Sophie felt a lurch as she pressed her face into his tunic, their feet being lifted off of the street. And then, almost immediately, their feet lightly came in contact with tiled ground. They were standing on her terrace that led to her room, her French doors still open with the curtains quietly billowing out towards them. Howl didn't let her go, only tilted her chin so he could look down at her troubled face.

"I'll be the proper gentleman you deserve Sophie." He leant close as he spoke, his lips so near that if she pushed up on her tiptoes, they would touch. But she didn't.

"'Till tomorrow."

And then he was gone, leaving her embracing the cool summer night air. Her arms fell to her sides, and she looked up in piqued vexation at herself at the moon, damning herself.

_So close._


	9. Chapter 9

*Note*

The poem is _The World_ by Henry Vaughan from which the note is from, but I am changing the poet's name because people from our world have different names in Ingary etc., much love. 3

Also, I've been getting a few reviews saying that I shouldn't worry/do a smut chapter, which was interesting to hear. However, I don't know whether I should or not now, and I'm loathe to change the rating and have amateur readers; however that's quite judgmental of me and I shouldn't even consider that morally.. But then I could just submit one-shot smuts. Suggestions?

In any case, thank you for all the lovely reviews :33. They mean so much, and I've been seriously considering dedicating chapters to people who have been with me since my beginnings to display my gratitude. :)

BTW.

I think you'll really like the next chapter.

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 9: In Which It Begins**

The sun was peeking through into Sophie's room, as she lay asleep across her bed. She'd pushed her sheets and quilt off onto the floor, and her nightgown lay with them in a crumpled heap where she'd flung it off in the middle of the night. She was clad in only those snippety bits of underclothes called lingerie, and she was only beginning to feel a cool early morning breeze. A frown was etched delicately on her slumbering face, and she curled onto her side, stretching out her hand to the empty space beside her.

Her bedroom door suddenly banged open, and Martha rushed in, already fully dressed. With a jump, she bounced onto Sophie's bed, jostling her sister into consciousness.

"Sophie! Do wake up. WAKE UP."

"Hmm?" Sophie rubbed her eyes blearily, as it was still quite early in the morning, and the last few images of her dream floated from her vision.

"Get dressed, and come downstairs!" And with that, Martha bounced off the bed and ran out. Hugging herself, Sophie slipped out of her bed, and stumbled towards the chair where her robe lay draped. She tied it with a yawn, and shuffled over to her vanity to splash some water on her face. Her sisters always puzzled over why Sophie didn't just use her bathroom sink, but the pitcher and bowl nostalgically reminded her of her childhood, when her father was still alive.

After a few minutes of hunting for her slippers, she made her way down stairs. Martha was waiting at the bottom agitatedly, and Sophie gave her a tired glare.

"Martha, it's not even half past seven. What's this all about?"

"You've got something," she said, pointing ominously towards the front door. With a sigh, Sophie shuffled across the echoing hall, and through the door the doorman held open for her. Martha scurried behind.

Right in front of the front steps were hundreds upon hundreds of all kinds of flowers in vases that covered the entire drive into the street. Sophie stared aghast at the fields of flowers that covered nearly all possible ground space. Fanny would definitely not be pleased. There were men still unloading trucks, and Martha motioned towards one of them. He came loping up the grass, dodging a few vases of roses, till he came to Sophie. Making a perfunctory bow, he held out a piece of paper.

"Miss Sophie Hatter?"

"Yes?"

"These flowers are for you. The note says," the man cleared his throat. " 'All scatter'd lay, while his eyes did pour, upon a flow'r. Your Edward."

"Ah. Von Henrico. What a wonderful poet. Thank you." Sophie tried to sound nonchalant as she accepted the note, but couldn't prevent the telltale blush from spreading up her neck.

"Sophie. Who's _your_ Edward?" Martha looked at her suspiciously. "Why is he sending you all these flowers…what happened to Howl?"

"Nothing happened to Howl, and Edward is just a friend," Sophie snapped.

"Friends. " She scoffed. "_Friends_ don't send _friends_ hundreds of flowers…," Martha mumbled, and Sophie wacked her lightly.

What bothered Sophie more than Martha's quibbling was the fact that this Edward Atkin had determined where she lived just by her story. There were a few Fanny's in the world, and a lot of last names like 'Williams', or whatever her husband's surname was. The effort Edward Atkin made for her was astonishing, embarrassing, and more than a little flattering. And since the flower shop was in Market Chipping, and Fanny's mansion was not, that would have made her home even more complicated to find. And what would this mean for her and Howl? Was there a limit of suitors, as this Edward Atkin seemingly intended to become? Sophie didn't want to hurt his feelings, and she couldn't deny a feeling of attraction, but then there was Howl. _Howl._ His name sent a shiver of longing through her torso.

But there were so very many flowers. Which could mean Edward Atkin was not only rich, but he had serious connections. And that could become problematic.

Sophie sighed, and ignored Martha's continued bash, until she mentioned something about Lettie.

"She said she had thrown her entire inventory, as she calls it, of advice at you and you've barely moved an inch with Howl, and here you are off gallivanting with another man…"

"Martha," said Sophie suddenly, with spiteful suspicion, one she had been offhandedly nursing for a while. "Have you been following _all_ of Lettie's advice?"

Martha immediately stopped her rambling to iterate a loud 'NO' with a pitiful leer. Sophie merely gave her a withering glance, as is possible for all eldest siblings, and Martha drooped her head. Twiddling her thumbs, she sheepishly shrugged, and Sophie gave a satisfactory humph. Then it hit Sophie, and she staggered backwards against the stair railing.

"Wait…so you…you and Michael have…?"

Martha nodded, and the Hatter blush speckled her cheeks prettily.

"Well, it's not like we're not going to get married, we considered ourselves married anyhow, and it's a beautiful thing Sophie, part of human life and an expression of love…" Sophie noticed the words were nearly identical to the tirades that Lettie had subjected her to.

It also made her extremely aggravated that Lettie _and_ Martha were know more 'experienced' by a long shot, and Sophie felt incredibly out of the loop. Even if she did have two…admirers, it wasn't as if she was going to fling herself at them. Except for Howl. She didn't know if it was even possible to restrain her feelings, and if there was another scene like the one on her terrace last night, she definitively knew that she would tiptoe up those few inches, to hell with propriety.

Holding a hand to her head tiredly, Sophie shook her head, and patted Martha on the shoulder.

"I'm really tired. I think I'll just go back upstairs." She turned to the doorway, and went through the opened entry way, hugging her robe to her thin frame.

"Wait, Sophie, what should we do with all these flowers?" called Martha, a bit exasperatedly. Sophie merely waved her hand in apathy, intent on a fast retreat to her room. All those flowers could burn, for all she cared. It wasn't like she lacked them, she was surrounded by her beautiful flowers every week. Those flowers were the apples of the forbidden tree, and Sophie felt she was being forced to pick hundreds. Raking a hand through her already flyaway hair, she took deep breaths in the elevator, ignoring a small boy ,who was part of the cleaning crew, who was headed to the third floor.

Pushing the landing door open with a bang, she rushed into her rooms, only to hear the soft plucking of music wavering out through the morning air. Curious, and a bit afraid, (as who would be playing music in the house?), Sophie clutched her robe to herself, and peeked cautiously into her bed chamber.

All was the same as she left it, with the curtains to her terrace door billowing gently into the room. The music grew louder as she came in, and it seemed to be coming from outside the glass French doors. It was a light tune, which reminded her of rain, and sadness. Through the sheen of the drape, she caught sight of a familiar frame, blonde hair wisping in the breeze, the famous guitar gently played in long, tapered fingers.

"Howl?"

She moved closer to the terrace, and the music petered to a slower pace.

"I came to serenade you awake, but it seems I was too late. What are all those flowers for, Sophie?"

Sophie blushed.

"Oh, they were just from some friend I met in town." She stopped at the doorway, her vision of Howl partly obscured by the white hangings.

"You certainly have made quite the impression."

Howl sounded scary, speaking without any inflections at all in his voice. Sophie gulped, and clutched her robe closer.

"I was surprised myself, I certainly didn't expect quite an extravagant anything at all, and you know me, I love flowers, but selectively, you know my babies that I nurture in the shop and I don't know, those flowers were really unexpected, I've no idea what to do with them all…"

Howl stopped playing, and Sophie fell into silence as he stood up from the ground. As he came into full view, she bit her lip at the sight of him. He hadn't dressed up; he was merely wearing black trousers, and a billowy white tunic that he usually wore under his extravagant suits. Dark circles lay under his penetrating eyes, and the sight of him made Sophie's stomach make a painful flip. One arm dangled by his side, while the other casually held onto the guitar that was slung across one shoulder. He hadn't cut his hair recently, and it fell shaggily in front of his face, the breeze waving strands back and forth.

She made an involuntary step forward, innately wanting to comfort whatever ills was afflicting him, but somehow she knew that definitely played a part in them.

"I…" The words caught in her throat, and she was suddenly struck dumb by the fierce emotion that Howl's eyes stared at her, sending violent tremors down her spine. Seeing her visibly shaking, he came forward, as if to comfort _her_, but then stopped himself. Sophie wondered why in the world he did, when she realized how immodestly dressed she was.

_Oh to hell with modesty._

She closed the gap between them in only a few steps, and reached out to return into the warmth of his arms she missed so, when her bedroom door banged open once again.

"Sophie! There was another note from your Edward inviting you to his Summer Ball in the next few…weeks…" Martha's jubilantly devilish face fell as she finally noticed Sophie's visitor.

"Oh..I'm sorry…" She inched out of the room, and gently closed the door behind her.

Fully annoyed, Sophie turned back to Howl, only to see that he was heading out the doors to the terrace.

"Wait, Howl!"

"It seems I am intruding on your more pressing engagements."

Horrified, she rushed out after him, only to see his frame shimmering as he made to pop back into his castle. Grabbing at his slightly insubstantial hand, he turned to her, eyes now ablaze with anger. Undeterred, Sophie reached up and brushed a kiss millimeters from his lips, and his face had softened into astonishment as she saw him disappear.


	10. Chapter 10

*Note*

I've decided to have a lemon near the end of the story, and I'll just submit one shots separately in between chapters to satiate anyone :}

And when I started this, I did think of doing a Howl POV, but I want a consensus. Who wants?

---

Lotsalotsalotsa clichés. :D You know how we love 'em.

Thank you for all the nice reviews~~ HOWEVER.  
_Reviews. REVIEW REVIEW. _I've been submitting lots recently right? };

-----------

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 10: In Which Love Blossoms**

"Oh Sophie. What have you done now?"

She stared blankly into the open air that once held Howl, her robe hanging loose from being released of her previous nervous tugging. Kissing his dematerializing cheek was like sipping at the new fizzy drink Cesari's was sporting called 'pop', and then the air had rushed in to fill the space where he had stood. Only seconds had passed by, but it felt like days, and the twittering of the birds floated through her mind, a mind that was most thoroughly detached. The tingle still played across her lips, teasing and tormenting her. Darn Martha, and her absolutely horrible timing. Darn that Edward Atkin. Well, it wasn't entirely his fault. It wasn't as if she sent him signals to imply she was not interested, but at the same time, she didn't send signals saying send her thousands of flowers and invite her to a ball within the span of a day. And then Martha was just Martha, and Martha had no concept of privacy.

Another second later, and the air in front of her made a popping sound. In the next second, an angrily pacing Howl materialized in front of her, guitar-less. He turned on her, his eyes a blazing fury of lust.

"H…Howl?" Sophie's arms dangled at her sides, frozen with the rest of her frame in shock. He didn't reply to her stammered greeting, only moved forward to clutch her into his embrace. Her hands pressed against his chest; he held her tightly around the waist, so tight it nearly hurt, and would've if it hadn't felt so good.

"_Sophie_," he breathed, only an inch away. His eyes roamed her face tenderly, without dimming their intensity, and he hesitated. Sophie sighed inwardly with intense aggravation. Digging her fingers into his shirt, she pulled herself up closer, standing on the tips of her toes. Only millimeters away, she was still too small to reach him, and could taste his sweet breath enter her mouth. It only took a moment for his uncertainty to snap, and he closed the distance between them, desperately pressing his mouth to hers.

He was so soft, so soft. His lips moved against hers with building intensity, moving from an attempted tenderness to clinging neediness. Not to say she didn't respond with a raw hunger of her own. The dampness of his lips mingled with her own, and they clung to each other. Sophie could feel her lack of air pleasantly suffocating her, the build-up of pressure creating an excitement that amplified their kiss. Her arms freed themselves from between their frames, and stretched out to hold his face in her hands, pulling him closer. All of the tension from the last month was finally acknowledged, finally resolved.

The continued straining of her back and his neck made them tacitly sink to the floor. Howl fell to his knees, leaning back on his heels, and Sophie went with him, pressing into him. She sighed against his mouth, and he pressed a last kiss to her lips. Feeling happy for the first time in a long time, she nestled her face into his shoulder, enjoying his true, un-perfumed smell while she could.

"Sophie?"

"Mm?"

"Who is this Edward?"

Sophie froze in her content nuzzling, her bubble of happiness gone with a single, silent pop. She groaned inwardly. Howl _would_ bring that up right at the worst time, and with one last inhalation of his scent, she leaned back, her arms enclosed around his neck, so that she could sincerely tell him how foolish his worrying was.

"This Edward is just some stranger I met yesterday, who apparently thinks well of me. "

"Enough to send you enough flowers to last you until next spring?" An unhappy frown creased his face, and Sophie found it incorrigibly adorable.

"Howl, really, I merely shared a lunch table with him, and we struck up a conversation."

"I don't like the sound of him. And he sounds familiar, and I don't have many friends."

"Howl, I doubt you've even met the man. And he makes most of the events in Market Chipping and other places, so maybe you heard of him from one of those." Sophie sighed, and returned to her place in his shoulder. He shifted so that she sat more comfortably, but not without a loud huff.

"I think I might have a talk with this Edward."

Sophie sighed loudly into his shirt, and uttered a muffled threat, before focusing on the wonderful feeling of being in his arms.

"Oh…Sophie?"

"Yes. Howl."

"Shouldn't you…get dressed?"

Her eyes widened from their half closed languidness, and she wrenched herself from Howl's arms, and ran into the closet. Peeking out from the side of the door, she saw with relief that Howl merely smiled bemusedly at her bedraggled state, still sitting on the floor. His mouth was still red and tender, and his hair mussed, his eyes fixated on her with a glimmer of unspoken promises. Sophie swallowed her impulse to run back and make every word Lettie uttered into a reality, but instead she retreated into the hot recesses of her closet in search of more ample clothing.

"It wasn't like you were complaining before…" she grumbled, roughly sorting through her array of clothing.

A half hour later, Howl and Sophie were walking hand in hand down the street towards the castle. Most of the vases had been put in decorative places around the house, and a few were still in the drive, so both hurried away from the mansion, tacitly anxious to get away from the sickly scent of hundreds of different flowers.

Sophie looked up at Howl, the sun shining around his face like a halo. He had been looking down at her, and they both smiled, before looking again towards the castle.

"So, how shall we spend our Sunday, Miss Nose?"

Sophie grimaced at the nickname, and merely shrugged.

"I believe that is under your jurisdiction, Howl Jenkins."

"Well then. You won't mind if we visit Wales?"

"Your home?"

"Yes."

Sophie hadn't been to Wales since she was an old woman, and she'd still always wondered about it. She supposed the curiosity of an old hag still hadn't worn off.

"Alright."

Howl beamed down at her, flexed the hand that held hers, and opened the castle door with the other. They barely came inside, when Howl opened the door again, and Sophie closed her eyes as they went through the thin curtain of darkness.

It was pleasantly warm in Wales, humid, but not as cloying as it was in Ingary. Sophie felt a funny feeling as Howl changed her clothes, and when she looked down, she saw that her skirt had been raised several inches—nearly right below the knee—and the neckline of her top had also taken a cut. And she was wearing some odd sort shoe with lots of holes.

"Howl, what have you done to my dress? And my shoes?"

He had already changed into the blue trousers, and light shirt that looked like underclothing, with sleeves.

"Really Sophie, don't you feel much cooler?"

"Well, yes, but I feel so indecent."

"You didn't complain last time."

"I was a ninety year old woman last time!"

"Oh Sophie," he smiled, and hugged her toward him with one arm. "The carnival is in town, I'm sure you'll love it."

Sophie grumbled at his change of subject, but didn't bring it back up. She really did feel a lot cooler, and secretly wondered why this style wasn't popular in Ingary. It was immodest, but it was a lot more sensible for the summer.

He turned behind them to the small shack that Sophie knew held that awful horse-less carriage.

"Oh no…"

Howl merely smiled at her, before pushing up the door, and disappearing inside. In a few minutes, a loud roar came from within, and the carriage came zooming out as Sophie, frightened, backed up away from the opening. Howl smiled cheerily through the window, and stepped out of it.

"Come now Sophie, I can drive cars perfectly well. You'll be fine." He steered her into the passenger seat, and closed the door on her reluctant face. Walking around to the other side, he got in, and adjusted some sort of knob stick before the car zoomed forward. Sophie clutched onto her seat with her hands, and ignored Howl's chuckles, sure that somehow, they were going to crash into a part of the landscape zooming by.

After a while, Sophie started to relax, and let go of her seat. The scenery to the side was too blurry to watch properly, but through the front window, she could see sprawling grassy hills, and a giant tent with spinning circles around it in the distance.

"Can you see it Sophie? We're nearly there."

"That's a…carnival?"

"Yes. They have lovely shows, and rides, and food."

She glanced over at Howl, who seemed relaxed and more unreserved than he usually was. He saw her staring, and let go of the wheel with one hand to reach over and hold hers. She made to protest, but the car didn't seem to spiral into chaos, so Sophie contentedly let his warmth mingle with hers.

The distance had seemed enormous, but the car bounced along the road so fast that they were there in less than half an hour. The giant tent loomed into place, and as they came up to it, Sophie saw it was surrounded by a makeshift fence. Howl stopped the car near it, and got out of the car. Sophie looked at her door, and pushed it, but it wouldn't open. Perplexed, she pushed harder, but still it remained closed. Howl looked down at her from outside, and started laughing. He touched the door, and it opened, and offered a hand to Sophie, still laughing. Glaring, she ignored it, and stepped out of the car by herself, but when Howl put his arm around her shoulders, she didn't shrug him off.

"Oh Sophie."

"Hmph."

They reached the entrance to the carnival, and Howl reached into his back pocket to pull out little strips of paper. Handing it to a man in a ticket box, he gave them each a small square piece of paper, and they were let through.

The carnival was full of light, sound, and delicious smells. Howl went directly to a booth, and handed over more strips of paper in exchange for pink cotton on a stick. Smiling, he offered it to Sophie.

"What am I supposed to do with it," asked Sophie. It wasn't as if she was about to spin it into thread.

"Why, eat it of course." As if to make a point, he picked a piece off and put it in his mouth, flicking his tongue at the edge of his mouth. "Come on, it tastes delicious." He picked off another piece, and brushed it against her lips. Immediately, she opened her mouth, and the piece fell in. To her surprise, it melted instantaneously, tasting like sugar. It made her lips sticky, and she licked them.

"Good, right?"

She nodded, and smiled, tired of being right. He leaned down and pressed a kiss on her lips, and she tasted more sugar on his. Taking hold of her hand, they walked further into the fair.

A few hours later, Sophie had tried corn dogs (which, Howl assured her, were not made of dogs), fennel cake, and sauerkraut. She felt incredibly full.

"Sophie, would you like to go on the Ferris wheel?" Howl looked down at her, and pointed to the giant wheel that now shone with multicolored lights.

"You go on that thing?"

"Yes, it's a ride."

"A ride?"

"Yes, like…say if people took turns to bounce around in seven league boots. Because it's fun."

"I'd have to disagree."

"Just try it, Sophie," and he looked down at her with smoldering eyes, tilting her chin up with a finger. All night, it was 'just try it, Sophie', when she'd pushed away the corn dogs, stuck her tongue out at the sauerkraut, and held her stomach as he brought out the fennel cake. She could never win.

"Alright."

"That's my girl."

They waited in line, and when they were first, they waited for the wheel to stop with a swinging seat for them at the bottom. The small gate was raised, and Howl helped her in as she shakily stepped into the swaying bench. He settled in next to her, and tugged her into the crook of his arm.

The ride was nice, and peaceful, and the wheel lazily turned in the air. The breeze was cool, and Sophie snuggled into Howl's warmth, enjoying his hand that gently brushed her arm back and forth. When the wheel suddenly stopped when they were coming back down from the top again, Sophie startled, but they were only pausing the ride. A loud bang, however, scattered her scared thoughts.

"Look, Sophie."

Sensing the excitement in his voice, Sophie looked away from below, and in front of them, where bright fireworks lit up the darkened sky in myriads of sparks and swirls.

"Oh Howl, it's so beautiful!"

"Yes."

His voice sounded thick, and Sophie looked up at him. He was gazing fixedly at her, the lights of the fireworks reflecting exotically on his face. She couldn't look away from his eyes, and she leaned up, never leaving his gaze. They both closed their eyes as their lips met, and the light of the fireworks lit up her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

***NOTE***

**Iknowiknow. Missed AGAIN. Poor Sophie. **

**However, I have been kind, and written up a delicious, fulfilling, and needtoread little 'what if?'. Check my story lists. :}**

**Ugh. I'm really tired, so I don't know how well thought out this chapter will be.**

**----**

_DISCLAIMER: __ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 11: In Which Calcifer is.**

Sophie sat on the edge of her bed, gazing distractedly at the fireplace in front of her. Howl had just set her down on the terrace, smiling with a surprisingly sleepy face. He left a lingering kiss right where her neck met her jaw line, and looked at her for a while. And all that time, she thought to herself, _should I let him in? No one's home. Let him in? Yes? No? _

But then he disappeared. To reason, indecision never helped anyone, but Sophie didn't know whether she was ready for _that_, and although her body was saying _yes_, her mind was saying _not yet_.

Twining her hands in her hair, she braided it, before winding it around her head in a knot with a sigh. She'd already slipped into her lightest cotton nightie, and she was too tired to tuck herself in, and just laid down at the bottom of her bed. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and could see the faint outlines of her vanity, chairs, and other various bedroom implements. Her eyes drifted closed slowly, and she mistook the flicker in the hearth before her as a figment of her mind as it drifted into subconsciousness.

However, it grew stronger and stronger, until a full fledged fire emerged in her fireplace. Fully awake now, Sophie sat up in her bed, and approached it cautiously. She didn't have anything to protect her, not even her old walking stick, so she edged to the side, keeping her eyes on it.

"Sophie?"

Two eyes rolled up out of the fire, and she sighed exasperatedly.

"Calcifer, you nearly frightened me half to death."

"I'm sorry."

He looked tired, and didn't shine as brightly as she usually saw him. Placing a log on the fire politely, she settled down in front of him.

"What do you need, Calcifer? I didn't know I was honored enough for house calls…"

"Sophie, I need your help."

"Sure, how can I be of assistance?"

"I'm dying," he said with a sigh.

She recoiled in surprise at the bluntness of the statement, shocked. Didn't demons live forever?

"Dying? How? What's wrong?"

He stayed silent for a while, and Sophie waited patiently, half-heartedly glaring.

"I…I've been trying to make myself a body."

"A body! But…that's of the blackest magic Calcifer," she exclaimed.

Somehow he managed a shrug. "Good and evil do not matter to demons. Only contracts."

"But Calcifer…!"

"Sophie, please listen to me."

She scowled, but shut her mouth, swallowing her retorts for later.

"I talked to Mrs. Fairfax first. She was aware of the complications, but tried to make a Gollum form close to a human. It didn't work. It crumbled as soon as I touched it; my demonic forces disintegrated the power lines that made it stay together. I needed stronger material, things that would last, but they are rare, forbidden, or nonexistent in our time. Mrs. Fairfax bid me farewell with warning when she could no longer help, but that was not of concern to me.

"I took matters upon myself, and traveled to the fireplaces of unruly warlocks, bribing and beseeching. Some helped, some didn't. I had animals killed then, with those who agreed, trying to use the bodies as a stronger foundation; their blood and souls would create a more stable anomaly. It worked shortly, but they too failed, and the mutilations that had to be done to them revolted many after a time. The form they made was also gruesome. I nearly gave up, till rumors that came to me in my research; that of demons fully possessing the body and soul of humans. Don't worry Sophie, I've not come to that. I followed those rumors though, and they led me to a very powerful man. He would help me find a body, one of someone undeserving, one willing, or one near death. One that would put barely a feather on the collective human conscience. However, he demanded a contract. A small one, but one that tethered me to him, and is now draining me of my life force.

"He is, in all appearances, a gentleman. But he holds his vendettas close. He required my help in achieving a means to an end in one of them, help I gave after long debate. Know that it wasn't easy for me Sophie, know that. And know that I cannot stand being so debilitated, when I have so much power; the motivation behind my search. But I haven't been keeping up my end of the bargain, it's been surprisingly painful. And so he leeches at my life source. And I am dying. And only you can help me, Sophie."

Sophie stared at her old friend, aghast, and momentarily speechless with the sudden revelation. So this was why he was never in the castle.

In a world with black and white lines, evil and good, the rules of the youngest, and the eldest, Calcifer stood in the grey. She could not call him good, but neither could she call him evil. Such was not the nature of demons. And she had never, ever heard him so serious.

It still did not make her feel any better. Nonetheless, Calcifer was a friend, and Sophie loathed disposing of friendships when things looked complicated.

"How could _I_ help?"

Calcifer looked sadly at her, and continued.

"Do you remember the myriad flowers you received? And the invitation? I need you to accept them, fully, wholly, and I need you to forget Howl."

"What?" Sophie stared at him incredulously. He wanted her to be with Edward Atkin? The kind, courteous admirer that she definitely did not want to be with? What did he have to do with this, she just barely met him.

And then it hit her. Edward Atkin was well dressed, well mannered, and refined. Those of his stature would not deign to eat in such a common place; he must've had ulterior motives. He was the 'powerful man', the one who made the contract with Calcifer. But what did Sophie have to do with it?

"But…why me?" Her voice came out quieter than she expected it to, and Calcifer seemed to shrink back behind his log.

"Apparently he has a vendetta against Howl, and he wants Howl to suffer as he did. His reach extends far. Why do you think the Witch of the Waste just decided to visit your shop, and then curse the bejeezus out of you? He didn't rant far, but I got an idea."

"Calcifer. Do you really think I could bring myself to make Howl suffer?"

He stared pointedly at her.

"Sophie, if I die, Howl will never be the same. We held our contract for a very long time, and even though it has been dissolved, we are still connected to each other. He will suffer either way, and if you help, his suffering will be the lesser of the two. Do not think I take pleasure out of this."

"But Calcifer, you're only doing this for yourself!"

He gave her a tired, aged look. "Do not mock me. I realize my mistakes."

"Why didn't you just tell Howl?"

"My contract forbids me."

Sophie sighed, exasperated, and close to tears. It was a very long time before she spoke again.

"What do I have to do."

"Accept his marriage proposal; that's as far as my side of the contract goes."

She nodded silently.

"I'm sorry, Sophie."

"Please, just leave." Her voice was choked as she held in her tears.

Calcifer apologized softly again, before flickering away, the darkness returning to her room.

Stumbling to her feet, she went over to her vanity, where she immediately spotted the invitation sitting innocently against her mirror. Casting it to the floor with the wave of her hand, she shakily grabbed a piece of paper, and scribbled on it furiously. Many hours later, with stained hands, and cheeks, she neatly wrote out her finished composition, folded it, and sealed it.

The mansion was quiet as she padded down the stairs, through the foray, and out the front doors. It was not even four in the morning. The way to his castle was painful, and everything seemed to jeer at her, the beautiful star speckled sky, the rustling of the trees as they slept, and the subdued chirruping of night time creatures.

The door swung open as she touched the handle, and she pointedly ignored the abashed flame that flickered in the hearth. Avoiding the creaky parts of the stairs, she made her way up, slowly, painfully. Too soon, his door loomed in front of her. Suppressing an instinct to flee, she turned the knob and pushed the door open, wincing as the rusting hinges squeaked.

She nearly burst into tears again, as she saw him sprawled in innocent slumber, looking far younger than his age dictated. His windows glowed a soft, opalescent grey, and random images of the carnival, of Sophie ran in and out of the peaceful cloud. Tiptoeing to the side of the bed, she laid her letter on the empty pillow near his head. Brushing back the hair from his face, she pressed a kiss to his forehead, her eyes closed shut as she held her sorrow at bay.

"Goodbye Howl," she whispered above his lips, before lightly brushing them. And then, before she would break, she tiptoed out of the room, down the stairs, out of the castle. As soon as she was a distance far enough for her to not be heard, she broke into a run, bursting through the mansion doors, past surprised servants who had just woken to start their daily chores, and up the stairs, her lungs nearly bursting. She nearly made it to the top of the stairs when she collapsed, sobs wracking her small frame, her sorrow echoing through the halls. The words she wrote echoed through her mind, torturing her.

_Dear Howl_

She beat her hand into the cold marble.

_I cannot lie to myself anymore, nor to you._

_I can't have you in my life any longer._

The pain tore at her insides, and she cringed, keening.

_I cannot explain my feelings, there is no way._

_I need you to leave me, forever._

The words echoed in her mind, the lies burning her. She longed to run back to the castle, and rip that letter to shreds, but she couldn't. No, she couldn't.

At last her tears seemed to dry, but she couldn't prevent the occasional dry sob that fell from her sore throat, rasping out.

Her fingers curled against the rounded step, and she felt herself retreat into blissful numbness, and for a while, all was gone, and her wide eyes saw nothing.

_I need you to leave me._

_Forever. _

***Note***

**SOYES. If you're feeling like O: wtfinfinf, then please feel free to go to my profile and read my smut story. **

**It should really cheer you up. **

**D:{ DO IT. FEAR THE UNIBROW.  
**


	12. Chapter 12

***NOTE***

**I know that the ball was supposed to be **_**the following weekend blah blah**_** but I found out how to edit ch. 9 :) so now the date has been extended to fit my literary needs.**

**The symbol Choku Rei is a reiki symbol, and it generally means place the power of the universe here. I have no idea what a second degree pentagram is. I made it up, and if it exists, then la-de-da. :]**

**But yes, sorry for not updating, I've been in a rather shit of a mood. :D **

**So make me feel better and REVIEW. I loved loved loved those long ones~ You know who you are.  
**

**------**

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

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**Chapter 12: In Which Sophie Makes a Plan**

There was nothing in the world that didn't keep the needed escape of slumber from Sophie's bereft mind. For the past three weeks, sleep evaded her, even as she found herself yawning piteously throughout the day. She was thinking then, (for something to think of), of how grateful she was for Mrs. Fairfax's lack of inquiry upon her arrival at her doorstep weeks ago, the sun barely having risen.

After being gently carried to her room by shocked servants, petted, bedded, and fussed over, she knew too soon that she would have to leave. She didn't know when Howl would wake, and read her missive, and she knew as soon as he did he would come looking for her. As soon as the maids left her room, she hurriedly donned her old grey dress, and scribbled a short note to Martha and Lettie. It was a vague excuse, explaining her future absence, and she slipped it under Lettie's door. Back in her room, she retrieved her old walking stick from the corner of her closet, and rubbed the dust off of it tenderly, holding it close to her and letting it absorb her warmth. She hadn't practiced in weeks; only to help along the flowers, and she had yet to master her style. Nevertheless, she felt a peaceful hum respond from her faithful cane. It was her only resource; there was no way to get the seven league boots discretely, and the Fairfax farm was too far for walking. She didn't want anyone to know where she went.

With a few murmured words, it expanded to the length of a staff, and the width of her palm. A few more words and Sophie sat astride like a proper witch, and flew out of her room through the French doors into the pre-dawn air, her head already tucked down away from the winds that whipped at her.

Mrs. Fairfax had looked a bit shocked to see Sophie, drenched from when she flew into a raincloud, standing rather dolefully on the porch with her expanded cane clutched tightly in one hand. She was ushered in with frantic concerns, motherly fussing, and promises of hot tea. Sophie didn't answer her questions, but instead quietly asked her friend if she could stay a while, discretely. There was no escaping the beekeeper's piercing look, but she'd agreed with a sigh, and went off to the kitchen to bring in breakfast, mumbling about the odd ways of the Hatter children.

The next few days were peaceful, but busy. Sophie helped cook and clean around the house, and quietly followed Mrs. Fairfax on her trips to the hives, listening to the lectures of honey's magical potency that Mrs. Fairfax ranted with evident adoration. The bees hummed happy tunes, buzzing around the two women as they checked the hives. And with nothing better to do, Sophie found herself under Mrs. Fairfax's sorcerous tutelage.

And yet, still, sleep evaded her as she lay hidden and away from her problems. All the worries and pain that were dashed aside with lessons and labor during the day crept back at night. Even though she knew she had to think of a plan, she had forbidden herself from thinking about him, even as his face hovered in the periphery. The loss of a friendship and of a love battered against an unstable wall of will that was corroding flake by flake every night. And indeed, the ball was also in two days. She had tried to look excited when she told Mrs. Fairfax and sent her rvsp; and as the date grew closer, but she found herself nearly breaking down every time she found her façade succeeding. An idea had been growing in her mind recently, desperately, one she highly revolted against, but it seemed to be the only option plausible.

And so, that restless night, Sophie sat up in her bed, slipped on her slippers, and tiptoed with a candle to the library. It was against her morals, to bespell herself, especially since she wasn't wise enough to know the future consequences. Edward Atkin would need to be convinced that she had fallen in love with him; Edward Atkin would need to be most thoroughly duped. And Edward Atkin was most definitely not an easy man to dupe, if Calcifer was right. And if Sophie kept breaking down at every thought of betrayal, then all would have been for nothing.

A steady rain fell outside, helping to mask her light tread on the floor boards. She had to pass Mrs. Fairfax's room, and went by with the reward of a loud, rattling snore. Although the house itself was modest, and the rooms small, the library was bespelled to hold an enormous space inside. The looming bookshelves stood ominously, covering every inch of wall space. Not a gigantic collection by Kingsbury standards, but plentiful nonetheless. Thankfully, Mrs. Fairfax had already explained the library's system and organization, and Sophie went to the section that curved to her left. There were shelves near the top that held spell books to confuse the mind, and to provide illusions. Climbing up the ladder with one hand, and holding her flickering candle in the other, she peered at the book spines. _Marmary's Simple Spells for Décor_; _Advanced Spell Casting: Charms and Curses_;_ Paramnesia & Deception: The Extended and Explained version II_;_ Axfurd's Illusionary Spell Collections. _And it continued further on for two shelves. After sorting through them twice, she finally took the book on paramnesia, and another very old one about memory, she tucked them under her arm that held the candle, and slowly made her way down. It wasn't long before she found what she was looking for. Making her candle's wax magically grow, so that it wouldn't sputter out, she studied the spell.

_Distorting Fact and Fantasy in Memories_

_This spell will create a permanent illusion in memories, creating a block on the mind that will suppress other memories, while creating or establishing others. For precautionary measures, a clause spell is included to create a temporary relief of the spell, but only with contact or sight of the designated item(s)._

_Main Spell Instructions_

_After creating a second degree pentagram, take an ensorcelled edge and make a carving of the Choku Rei above the heart. Let the blood drip onto the pentagram. State the rime of plea and desire, before touching right hand to the carving, and then clapping hands together in form. Kneel in supplication, and await the pentagram's glow. When the light has diminished, the spell is complete._

_For a clause, place the item or piece of a person, or a piece of the thing(s) in which will temporary allow respite. Place them upon the top most part of the pentagram, in front of standing position after recitation of the rime of plea and desire._

_The carving of the Choku Rei is the anchor of the spell. Its removal can only occur by a healing fire cast by the original caster, and memory recovery will occur over time. The respite will only last when the item(s) are seen or touched and will help in the recovery. _

In essence, the spell was very easy to follow, but was vague enough that anything could occur. Sophie bit her lip, and thought about the clause. Of course, she'd want Calcifer to be a part of it, but she also needed Howl as it, because if she acted loopy in front of Howl, if she saw him (which she was very sure she would), then he would be suspicious she was under a spell. And if she acted loopy in front of Howl with Edward, then both would be suspicious she was under a spell. Even alone with Edward, he might be suspicious, and so Edward would have to be part of the spell too. But Edward was the very person she needed to deceive. That would not do at all. Unfortunately, both Calcifer and Howl and Edward were the very three people she was avoiding. However, she would need to cast this spell very soon, and she would see Edward in two days. For Calcifer, she could have him burn a piece of wood, and she could place it on the pentagram. As for Edward, she wouldn't include him. And as for Howl, well, she'd have to get creative. Sighing, she decided that she'd have to make the rime simple, so that it only diminished her feelings for Howl.

With a yawn, she stretched in her chair, and blearily rubbed her eyes. Her candle had just decided to sputter out, and she could hear Mrs. Fairfax stirring. She didn't want to have to explain why she was sitting in the library, with incriminating literature. Hurriedly, she climbed up the ladder, and replaced the books, before slipping back into the hallway. She could, at the very latest, cast the spell right after the ball, if she could find something of Howl's.

A thought passed through her mind. There were so many little pieces of cloth of Howl's blue and silver suit that she cut up, and there were scraps from sewing it back together. She had kept her sewing in her dress pocket back then…

Walking as fast as she could without making noise, she barely made it into her room when she heard Mrs. Fairfax's morning singing. Her grey dress was hanging on the back of a chair, waiting to be cleaned. Sophie didn't think she'd washed it for months, which, in this case, was a very lucky thing. Thankful, she hurried to it, and reached into the pockets. The left was empty but for lint, but the right one had a pair of scissors, and two small triangles of blue and silver. Sophie slumped to the floor with a relieved sigh, and ran a hand through her entangled locks. All she needed was to contact Calcifer, and go to the ball.

The ball.

Sophie realized she had nothing to wear but her shabby grey dress, and glanced wearily through the door, where she knew Mrs. Fairfax was jollily making breakfast. Rubbing her face, she put on a small smile, and made her way to the kitchen. She didn't want to go back to her home, where she would most likely be ambushed. It was time to impose on her hostess once again.


	13. Chapter 13

***NOTE***

**When I was searching for pictures to kind of give you guys an idea of how I picture the ball gown, I found a picture so scarily accurate ('cept for tha jewlzz) I was like O: So here it is: (replace the dot things with periods~)**

**http://katima(dot)deviantart(dot)com/art/The-Gown-74775080**

**edit: lolol I didn't realize how close to Belle it was. I WAS NOT INSPIRED BY BELLE D: Also, I picture Sophie with blue eyes, and Howl with green, and if it contradicts your imagination, then by all means use it to change what I've written to whatever color you wish. ^-^**

**Butyea. I'm so so sorry that it's taken me a whole month. ): And this chapter isn't done as well as it should be but I really want to get it in thar fo you guys. ^-^ I think I'll make it a bit longer than usual, yes?**

**I LIKE REVIEWS PLEASE? My birthday's coming upp.... :D  
**

**-------**

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**-------**

**Chapter 13: In Which there is a Ball**

Sophie was poking at fresh pancakes doused with butter and honey, while Mrs. Fairfax had happily gone off to excavate her old wardrobe. It didn't seem like there was an end to the woman's generosity, and Sophie felt a little guilty. However, her purpose was an important one, and in the end, Mrs. Fairfax would indubitably help her, so it was a kindness not to leak her own worries and taint the generosity with anxiety. At least, so Sophie rationalized.

And more so, Sophie needed to find out how to contact Calcifer. She knew he could pop around in other people's fireplaces, but he didn't know where she was, or that she needed him. Chewing thoughtfully on a pancake, she surmised that she'd have to either cut him out of her plans, or sneak a message to him. However, Lettie and Martha would rat her out instantly, as would Fanny. Sending Mrs. Fairfax would only give her hide-out away. Cursing silently, she racked her tired brain for a few minutes, eating unconsciously through her stack of pancakes. She really didn't have many friends, she realized, that she could trust in this situation. Besides Calcifer. But he was the very one she couldn't contact, and if she could, she wouldn't have this dilemma.

A loud call from the back startled her out of her brain storm. Pushing her chair back, she headed towards the place from where her name was shouted, the place she correctly guessed was Mrs. Fairfax's room.

Three grueling hours later, she was wearing one of the dresses Mrs. Fairfax had procured, that Sophie had agreed on. They had all seemed to fit perfectly, (no surprise since they were from a magical wardrobe), but it wasn't till this one that Sophie didn't cringe at herself. Tomorrow they would do a second fitting. The hives needed to be cleaned.

"Oh my dear, I must say I like this one even better today!" beamed Mrs. Fairfax with a smug smile. The next day, right after her breakfast, Mrs. Fairfax had steered Sophie into her room. All of her children were out in the world making their fortune, and Sophie could see the motherly gleam of "dress-up time" as she glanced at the woman's reflection, which stood behind her own in the mirror.

With a wave of her oversized honey dipper, Mrs. Fairfax made the neckline and the waistline to match the current fashion; the neckline lower, and the waist more fitted. Yesterday, when they'd gone through the few dozen dresses, Sophie didn't care that the dress fit a bit off, because, unlike the bright red and dark pink ones and bright orange ones that seemed to make up the majority, this dress at least didn't make her look like a walking candlestick. Sensing Sophie's approval, Mrs. Fairfax had gone off about looking up tailoring spells, and it seemed today she'd been well reacquainted.

Mrs. Fairfax tapped her waist, her arms crisscrossed over her torso.

"You're missing something…" She paced back and forth for a few moments, before stopping abruptly and passing her honey stick over Sophie's collarbone.

"They're made of crystallized honey, and shouldn't melt unless you wander too close to a fireplace!" she said with a laugh.

Sophie glanced at the edible jewelry in awe. A pale golden chain, a slight shade lighter than her dress, dripped down little curlings delicately draped over her skin, looking like blown glass. Similar little droplets attached themselves to her ears. It took a lot of magic to conjure and transmute things out of thin air, as she'd recently learned, and she suddenly wondered the extent of Mrs. Fairfax's magical knowledge. But she didn't get the chance to ask. She was forced out of the dress, (the jewelry had mysteriously disappeared), and forced into a honey scented bath, then had her hair pulled and twisted until her eyes watered, and her locks were soon docilely hanging in a 'braided back, cascading, entirely too done' hair do. Mrs. Fairfax looked incredibly pleased with herself, and went to get some sort of cosmetic. Sophie looked in the mirror, and despaired at the woman she didn't recognize.

"Oh dear, your carriage is arriving in half an hour and you're not even dressed!" Mrs. Fairfax bustled in, carrying a small basket of jars. They were labeled with small letters naming 'Eyes', 'Mouth', 'Lashes'. Sophie braced herself as a wave of depressive nostalgia came over her head, and Howl's face glimmered through her mind. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, which her caretaker took as an opportunity to smear things over her eyelids. Not willing to fight anymore, (she swore she'd lost a chunk of hair in her hairdo battle), she let herself get painted and prodded. It turned out to be a rather soothing process, but all too soon, she was pulled out of the chair, her shift ripped off, and her undergarments pulled on. There was no time for embarrassment, although the flush in her cheeks seemed to be permanently placed. With a flourish, Mrs. Fairfax waved the dress's skirt over Sophie's head, and pulled it down, before adding the surcoat, and the waist piece. Both were in accord that corsets were evil, useless, and did nothing productive, unless you wanted to die early. Gloves and a fan were shoved into her hands, when a loud knock came at the front door. Mrs. Fairfax hurried off to answer it, and Sophie was finally left alone.

She turned, and caught her reflection in the standing mirror, and turned away, ashamed. She looked beautiful, and she looked beautiful for someone else, who didn't deserve her. Who had no right to have her, but she had no choice. Mrs. Fairfax had made her blue eyes luminous, and her lips into a permanent pout. Sophie felt sick to her stomach, but she had to keep going on. It would only get worse from here, until she cast the spell. Her thoughts came to her short and choppy, with the stoic self-chastisement that kept her emotions in line, and her face passive.

Slipping on her shoes, she caught sight of an empty stoppered vial and scraps of paper on the desk near her. On an impulse, she swept them into her skirt's pocket.

The carriage driver stood patiently at the doorway, while Mrs. Fairfax talked pleasantly with him about the weather, and the good climate for bee hives. When Sophie appeared in the foyer, Mrs. Fairfax stood in a silent cloud of happiness, and the man bowed, before offering his arm. Pulling on her gloves, she went and kissed her friend on the cheek, and took the driver's arm with one hand, and holding up the side of her skirt with her other. He led her to the carriage door, where the footman held the door open, and another stood to help her in, and close the door behind her. The driver had already settled behind the reins, and Sophie peered out the carriage door's window as Mrs. Fairfax waved goodbye.

The ride to the ball was pleasant despite the circumstances, as the route was through the countryside. Although she was accompanied by three footman, a driver, and four horses, she felt very much alone. She hadn't eaten all day, but her stomach felt so tight that she wasn't sure she could keep anything down anyway.

Sophie closed her eyes, and leaned her head on one hand, her elbow propped against the door. Was she always to be afflicted with the unfortunate luck of the first born child? She thought that her self-induced idiocy and conflicts were over with the demise of the Witch of the Waste. But what could she have been thinking. She _didn't_ think that was all; she dimly reminded herself of Howl's words. How could she think that just because she overcame one obstacle, that the circumstances would change? She was still a first born, and she would always remain so. She couldn't remember one story where the first-born didn't suffer some gruesome fate, except for 'The Twelve Dancing Princesses'. But then, the eldest ended up aiding her own, and her sisters' demise, and she was married off to an old, conniving ex-soldier. It might not have been gruesome, but it was certainly unwanted. The eldest had loved one of the princes she'd danced with the nights through, and she could no longer be with him. Sophie supposed her situation was similar, and felt herself slipping into a grotto of self pity.

Shaking herself abruptly, she pinched her arm, and mentally yelled at herself. Now was not the time to fall apart. She clutched her fan tightly, and murmured the instructions of the memory spell over and over to herself, until a knock on her door announced her arrival.

A footman was peering through the window, and seeing that he had caught her attention, he immediately opened the door and proffered an arm. Sophie took it with all the grace and solemnity she could muster, clutching the side of her skirt so she wouldn't trip.

It was already twilight when they had arrived, and the sky was a blurred steel blue. However, that was not what caught her attention. They had stopped in front of a large marble staircase that was attached to an enormous castle. The front doors, which were at least the height of two men, were swung open invitingly, and a golden yellow light beckoned warmly from within, stark against the darkening sky. The same light glimmered from the windows, flickering as guests past by in twos and threes. Sophie could see ladies escorted up the stairs by a fellow lady friend, or a gentleman. Biting her lip, she realized that she would have to awkwardly assail the steps alone. There was a regal looking man at the entrance of the doors, announcing arriving guests. Sophie would have to do that alone as well.

"Stiffen up, Sophie! You've faced down nastier things than a bit of social awkwardness," she murmured to herself. Holding her head up high, she withdrew her invitation, and stepped forward.

One of the footmen, as if he'd sensed her previous internal struggle, tapped her lightly on the shoulder. Surprised, Sophie looked behind her, and turned to face him. He had a pleasant face and dark black hair that curled softly on his brow.

"Miss? Might I escort you inside?" He bowed perfunctorily.

Sophie stared wide-eyed, momentarily taken aback. But she nodded gratefully, and let herself a small smile, and the footman looked up with a smile in return. His joy reminded her of Michael, and Sophie swallowed back a small wave of sadness.

The man proffered his arm, and Sophie laid her hand lightly on it, her other hand holding her invitation, fan, and dress.

They made their way up the steps at a leisurely pace, and Sophie, although looking congenial on the outside, was furiously reminding herself of what she must do. Ironically, she was using the very skills Lettie had taught her not too long ago to use on someone else.

_When you arrive, look around immediately for him, but only look at him for a moment. Smile at him. Remind yourself of the kind gentleman you had lunch with, and that he is not really a cruel hearted con man. Don't over flirt. Speak about Howl without wistfulness. Ask about him and his work. Tell him you've been thinking of him lately. Dance with him, but dance with others._

And so it went on. And all too soon, they arrived at the entrance, waiting their turn to be announced and ushered in. When it came that Sophie was next in line, the footman turned to her, and bowed, releasing himself of her touch.

"I am sorry, Miss, but I cannot enter with you. Thank you for gracing me with your company." He looked up from his bow with a sweet smile.

"Thank you, for relieving me of a most likely embarrassing climb." Sophie curtsied, and watched him step lively down to where his carriage was waiting on the side of the curved driveway. At that moment, she felt incredibly old again, and almost felt her back stiffen and stoop forward.

A little cough made her turn back around, where the man stood with a list, waiting for her invitation. Blushing, Sophie stepped forward, and handed it to him. Quickly, he scanned his list, and nodded for her to step forward into the light of the entryway, where she would descend another, smaller staircase.

"The Lady, Sorcerous Sophie Hatter." For a stout man, his voice carried high into the gigantic great hall that was a ballroom that Sophie found herself in, and she felt her flush grow as a good many faces turned towards her lonesome self. She most definitely did not have that title on her invitation, and she wondered if _he_ was behind that.

Immediately, Sophie mentally hit herself. She must stop thinking of him as an _it_, and rather as Edward. Gaining control of her face, she began to descend the staircase, all the while forcing herself to scan the crowd for the host. However, she couldn't dally long on her descent, as there were guests coming down behind her. Her eyes subtly scanned the crowd, looking for the unruly patch of chestnut hair that she knew of. To her dismay, there were far too many men to look at, and most of them with their heads turned in dance. Also, a lot of them had brown hair, and a lot of them were not Edward.

When she hit the bottom of the stairs, immediately a fair man in a purple jacket asked her for a dance. She looked up in fear, expecting it to be Howl, but she met brown eyes with bittersweet disappointment. Painting on a smile, she accepted, knowing that Edward would find her eventually anyway. The man whirled her into a gavotte, and they were immersed in a cloud of color and swirls, people dancing close but only brushing by them. Instantly, Sophie felt intimidated, as she'd forgotten that this season's fashion was rich, dark colors, and she was dressed in pale gold. She could almost feel the stares of the fashion weary boring holes into her back.

The dance was nice though. It gave Sophie something to focus on, being that she'd never danced very much, and her partner led her easily though the steps with little mistake. The song ended, and a second began, and another man, dressed in green velvet, asked to lead her into the Viennese waltz. She accepted, and was twirled across the marble floors, that glimmered with reflected light.

Soon, she felt like her feet were about to fall apart, and she could feel that small of her back was perspiring slightly through the cloth of her dress. She excused herself from her partner from the last three dances, and went to stand in the shade of a potted tree that towered over the refreshment table. There were small round tables, with two to three chairs at each, where random groups of girls, or couples sat and ate. There was one empty one right beneath the tree, and Sophie hobbled over to it. Sitting down with a sigh, laid her fan on the table, and patted herself with a handkerchief. She was in no condition to dance anymore, and she hadn't seen Edward once. Pulling her handkerchief against her mouth, she whispered into it.

"I know you'd much rather be having snot blown into you, but when I pass you over my feet, you'll heal up those sore and blisters, so I can continue with the plan. Okay? Heal them right up, don't leave out one."

Sophie had long gotten over her seemingly insane- old-woman-barmy-way of casting her magic. It worked for simple things, and she was fine with it. Even though she was more self-conscious now that she was younger, she wasn't about to give such a useful thing up for the sake of appearances. Leaning down as if she were fixing her shoes, she passed her handkerchief over them, and immediately felt cool relief. Sighing, she wriggled her toes as they made their way free of the encasing leather. Pursing her lips, she figured while she was down there, she'd fix her shoes so they wouldn't bother her feet anymore. Fixing her feet now would be useless if they just got battered up later. In a moment, the shoes sparkled slightly as they heeded her commands, and she wriggled her feet back in.

As she straightened up, she didn't notice the figure sitting across her until she'd reached for her fan. Her eyes met the chestline of a black velvet jacket, and slowly went up. At last, she thought, it was finally Edward, come to greet her and sweep her off of her feet.

She was never so wrong.

Her eyes went up further, and met hard, cold green ones, framed by unruly blonde hair. Sophie sat frozen in her chair, her eyes petrified between horror and delight. She'd completely forgotten that Howl had some notion of the ball she was invited to. Of course he'd come. Of course. God, she was so stupid. Here she went again, not thinking.

"Sophie."

His voice was hard, and cool, cutting like a newly honed blade. At her name, she flinched, freed from her fixed state. Her heart, wrapped carefully and bandaged, was bleeding through cracked scabs. Even looking angry and dangerous, she wanted to grab Howl and kiss him with all her worth, and then run away forever with him, and escape this dire plot she was entwined in.

But then Calcifer would die.

And most likely, a part of Howl would die too.

Sophie sat up out of her chair slowly, looking down at her skirt so that when she looked up again at Howl, her face was schooled into calm indifference.

"What the hell are you doing here, Howl Jenkins?"

***NOTE***

**Ooo cliffhanger. :D I was going to continue, but I can't resist. No worries, fourteen will be up A LOT SOONER then it took to get this out. -_-**


	14. Chapter 14

***NOTE***

**I'm writing this, laik, immediately after submitting thirteen, on the day, plus a few days. SO THERE WILL BE NO NEED FOR TYPEWRITERS AND COLD FRIDGE THINGS. **

**ATTENTION ATTENTION BELOW IT IS IMPORTANT AND IF YOU DO NOT HEED I WILL BE ANGRY AND NOT SUBMIT TILL DECEMBER.**

**You'll see an asterisk later on below. I am also a fan of Fruits Basket, and in the anime, there is a part that reminds me of the scene I wrote right away. :D I'll give you the youtube link for it, and the time frame to skip to. WATCH IT PLEASE? I'll give a sneak preview of what may happen to those who do, and those who ask. WATCH IT ANYWAYYYY if not want. IT'S FUNNY. ITS JUST ONE WORD YOU HAVE TO HEAR. I would be so happy if you did T-T**

**http://www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=2NDGzjBJ-4I**** at **_**4:17**_

**On Friday I'm going to Canada till the 16th, and then a few days after that the Shore for another week. I'll be writing, but no submissions till I get back. Unless I submit tomorrow, which I doubt I will~**

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_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**-------**

**Chapter 14: In Which Sophie Lies**

Sophie took a brief moment of satisfaction at the passing surprise on Howl's face. He'd never heard her cuss before, or at least, never so openly. Lately, she'd taken a liking to cursing the daylights out of anything in her mind. It was a superb anger outlet.

She saw his jaw tense, however, at her rather hostile greeting, and her satisfaction was wiped away. She caught the faded look of shadows under his eyes that he failed to conceal, and the haggard stoop of his shoulders. As usual, he looked absolutely devastating in black, his fair hair fairly shining like a newly lit candle, no matter his wearied look. In fact, it made her even more susceptible to him. Sophie scowled inwardly. She'd have been susceptible even if he was wearing a brown paper sack.

She saw him pause, as if he wished to unleash all of hell's fury upon her, but he closed his eyes, and his hands slowly unclenched. Opening them, she saw his look turned playful, but cold nonetheless.

"Why, Sophie, isn't it obvious? I've come to dance. This _is_ a ball, my dear."

He was going to turn this into a game? Sophie's hands twitched where they lay folded on top of the table.

"I didn't hear your name announced."

"Well, I wasn't exactly invited. But you know I can't resist a place to dress up."

Sophie quivered with irritation, though at more than just the sardonic irony in his words.

"You need to leave me alone. Stop pretending that what I wrote to you had no substance." She stood up abruptly out of her chair, and he followed suit.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself.

"Howl Jenkins, I meant it. Leave me alone. I never, ever want to see you, talk to you, or be anywhere near you."

It was very close. Sophie could almost feel her chest collapse within her, and it was very hard to breathe.

The cold look in his eyes turned fiery. He grabbed her arm, and pulled her close, so close she could feel his anger in waves, rolling off his chest.

"Sophie, you left me a damn _note._ How was I to know you weren't kidnapped? How was I to know what you said is true? And even when I found out you were with the Fairfax woman, I couldn't even come close because of her damn barrier."

_Barrier? So she knew…_

"Sophie." He shook her lightly. "I deserve a true explanation. Did…did our friendship mean nothing? These last couple of days? You held my own heart, in your hands, so many times. I…" His voice broke with emotion. "I wanted to be with you, forever. I still do."

Sophie bit the inside of her lip. This was horrible. She wasn't going to make it, and confound that bloody wizard he was going to ruin everything! Obviously, Calcifer wasn't being a help at home at all.

A true explanation? It wouldn't be. No. But Sophie thought quickly in her mind for something to push him away. She shook herself out of his grip, and stepped away from him, bristling with irritation.

"You were friends with an old, ugly woman. And now that I'm young again, I'm some new girl for you to pursue and then dump as soon as you're sure that I love you. "She shook her head furiously, but he came forth anyway.

"Sophie, are you daft?" He shook her slightly.

"A spell cannot change who you are, and I love all of you. I would take you as an old woman if it meant you would be mine! Surely you can't be that foolish, to think I would just chuck you. I didn't think you an idiot." He practically hissed the words, and she stepped hastily away from him, fearing she would fall into his arms. He'd never spoken to her thus, and she knew it was all her doing. Taking a deep breath, she took the plunge.

"You say that now, but how can you know? I don't want that. I don't want to always wonder, and pine. And I don't want a life with a wizard. I was better off when I didn't even know I had some sort of magic ability, sewing hats in the back of the shop. None of my problems would've started, if it wasn't for you. I'd be leading a normal, boring life, and be happy with it! And now? I have powers I…I can't even think to understand, or control, or want! I have to live with my _mother_ and my sisters won't stop hounding me about you! And now that I've finally met someone who can give me relative normalcy, who won't pitch me away when they like, you come on your black horse to bother me again! I don't love you Howl, and I don't think I ever did."

Sophie was surprised at the anger that heaved in her chest, though not of the tears that welled in her eyes. She considered it for a moment, as her face flushed with emotion, and decided it wasn't anger, but rather hysteria. That was good, if he saw the anger. It would only make her more convincing, more the actress.

He backed off.

"So. Edward was more than just 'a friend from town'." His face had turned so instantly passive; Sophie felt a shock from the lack of passion that had just been directed towards her. He looked away pensively, studying the branches above them. His jealousy was more perceptive than he thought, Sophie realized, although her chanced acquaintance with Edward was far from what he implied.

Sophie opened her mouth to send a spiteful retort, and Howl opened his to continue his musing, when a figure appeared at Sophie's shoulder.

"Is everything alright?" inquired a quiet voice.

Startled, Sophie flinched backwards, until she realized who it was. Looking up to her left, darkened brown eyes looked down at her, eyes that took note of her unshed tears and her flushed face with genuine concern, and something else more hidden . Sophie glanced immediately back at Howl, nervous.

As she'd thought, he'd gone rigid with his rival's appearance. * Rival he was, Sophie lamented, in more ways than one. However, Edward stood languidly at Sophie's side, his arm somehow already gently tucked around her shoulders. She had to restrain herself from shuddering under his touch.

"I hope this fellow hasn't been bothering you, my dear. Why, I don't recall such a face among my guests?"

Sophie again opened her mouth to reply, but this time Howl beat her to it.

"I am the Wizard Howl Pendragon," he said, puffing his chest.

Edward looked appropriately surprised, and Howl continued smugly. Sophie wanted to clout both of them.

"I saw this wonderful party, and thought to stop by. To my delight, my dear friend Sophie was attending. We were merely catching up."

Sophie winced at her name, spoken with barely hidden contempt.

"I am happy you enjoy my party, and delighted to meet a friend of Sophie's. However, as it is a private engagement, unfortunately I must ask you to leave. Especially since it seems your conversation has taken a less than favorable turn." Sophie never realized how threatening Edward's quiet voice could seem. Even if the congenial warmth never left his tone, his warning was lying underneath.

"I understand, but I have a few more things I'd like to say to Sophie."

Edward looked down at Sophie questioningly. She nodded, having one more task to do, and made herself pat the hand that lay lazily by her neck. He smiled, and disappeared into the dancing crowd.

They were alone again.

His face crumpled.

Sophie's heart sagged.

Where she'd spotted it, she placed her hand on his shoulder, after closing the distance between them. He shuddered beneath her touch. She curled up her hand, her prize beneath. She knew what she would do, now.

"Howl." Her voice was soft, gentle. "I'm sorry. You deserved a better break than this."

_He deserved so much more than this._

He didn't look her in the eyes, and she barely caught his whispered words.

"My heart will always belong to you."

She shook her head; feeling strands of her hair graze her cheeks.

"Howl, I need you to trust me, and trust what I'm doing. Let me alone."

Suddenly, a darting hand reached up to clasp her curled one tightly. He met her eyes with blazing green ones.

"I will always be here. I won't give up, Sophie."

Sorrow overtook her, and she suddenly questioned the decision she'd made moments ago. With slow, shaky movements, he brought her closed hand to his lips, and brushed her knuckles lightly. In a moment, he'd wavered away, and Sophie watched as the outline of his form disintegrated into the air.

Sighing, half with relief, half with agony, she unclenched her hand. In it, lay a single golden hair. She put her other hand into her pocket, and pulled out the vial, where the hair went.

Initially, she was going to make Calcifer the clause to her spell. But, the spell wouldn't make her forget her purpose. It was only to repress her love. And after tonight, she had a feeling she wouldn't see Howl unless it was her wish. Somehow, it seemed best that the moment she'd see Howl, she'd remember everything. Somehow, that was fitting.

Brushing her gloved hands against her skirt, she looked up and picked up her fan, and scanned the crowd for Edward. Only half the battle was won.


	15. Chapter 15

***Note***

**This chapter is going to be short. Because I really need to update :c  
School's just started, and Ramadan's reaching its climax, and so either 1. Infrequent updates or 2. Short chapters. I WANT A CHOICE FROM REVIEWERS PLEASE (:  
Thank you for your reviews, they make me happy and giddy and guilty for not writing faster. **

**---------**

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

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**Chapter 15: In Which There is Another Invitation**

Servants had begun to open wide terrace doors in the back, to let in the cool night air. Guests had taken to the gardens from the dance floor; in seek of more airy, private areas. The hall grew less crowded, but somehow, Sophie still couldn't catch sight of her host. Despite the cloistering heat, she shivered, and goose bumps still rippled across her skin as memories of the 'encounter' flitted in her mind. Her arms ached, as if they too felt Howl's loss like her heart did. (A/N Normally I'm not one to interject but lol soap opera?)

A brief idea flashed through her mind. What if she gave Calcifer her heart? That way, he could overcome Edward's hold with their bond, and he would be free again. No. Free to a degree…he would be bound to Sophie. And she would become a shallow, heartless creature (a vague point of her spell), and she still wouldn't have Howl. Would an ensorcelled old woman come to her rescue too?

Sophie stepped towards the edge of an opened terrace door, comforted by the cooling breeze. Her heart still beat frantically, thumping in her chest. Loose hairs fluttered on the periphery of her face. Annoyed with the heat, she pulled of her gloves that had begun to stick to her sweaty arms.

A quick survey of the darkened garden showed no Edward in sight, and she slumped against the door frame, a hand placed above her head. She felt the smooth wood, splinter-free, and her fingers curled. Even though it was light in her pocket, Sophie was highly aware of the glass vial, with its single hair. It was the best route, to make Howl the clause. She could handle being near him, as this night proved. She knew she'd see him, at some point, and it would be a good reminder. It would keep him from leaving her completely, which she did not want to happen. And since he was still bound to Calcifer in a way, Calcifer might be indirectly linked to the clause of the spell as well. Sorted.

Now Edward. The spell didn't require any part of him to be incorporated; she only had to concentrate on him in her mind. It was so very important that her interests turned to him, because she knew she couldn't handle him otherwise. Even thinking his name made her shudder, and a nauseous feeling floated at the small of her back, up to her throat. When he had placed his arm around her, she could barely restrain herself from swatting him, and running as far away as she could. She could feel his terrible, sickening aura now, and now these very thoughts were nearly making her faint. Sophie made a step forward, into the path of a breeze, and focused on its teasing pressure to relieve her incapacitating thoughts. Eyes closed, she hummed lightly under her breath

She'd nearly calmed herself completely down, when a light touch settled on her shoulder. With a screech, her eyes snapped open, and she tumbled backwards in fright, whacking into the door frame. Scowling, and rubbing a sore shoulder, she glanced up to see what had startled her from her reverie.

It was no surprise to see Edward's face carefully smiling at her. Sophie thought irritatedly that she should've just stood in a spot and waited, instead of attempting futile searches. Again, it was if he wanted to make her think she could never find him, but he could always find her. It was unnerving, and more than a little creepy.

She made to take a step back, but she was already fully against the door frame. Her shoulder twinged painfully.

"Ah, Miss Sophie, I apologize if I startled you?"

"No, not at all," she lied through gritted teeth, covered with a beatific smile. He was definitely worse than Mrs. Pentstemmons.

The look he gave her told her he knew otherwise, but she ignored it, carefully stepping away from the door, and patting down her skirts with one hand while her other clutched her gloves. In turn, Edward stepped back politely, giving room.

"I had so hoped as to claim you for a dance this evening, Miss Sophie." He bowed simply, extending his hand.

_Oh boy._

Shuddering on the inside, she swallowed, and widened her smile, hastily slipping on her gloves. There was no way in all that was still rooting for her that she'd touch his skin. Not now, at least. Unlike most of his guests, the host had decided to go gloveless.

_Smart_, she thought grudgingly, _but worse for me._ He led her out onto the shining, sparsely populated marbled floor just as the musicians struck up a waltz.

Sophie took a deep breath, as her arm was raised with his and her other hand was lightly lifting her skirt from the floor. His touch was light around her waist, and she could barely feel the heat of his hand in hers. As he twirled her around the dance floor, she kept a focused gaze at the moving space over his shoulder, not daring to spare a glance into his eyes. Seemingly reposed, he politely complimented her dress, asked after her and her family's health, and vaguely commented on his party. Her responses were slightly breathless, from dancing, and were distant and simple. As she retreated into the safe recesses of her mind, she remembered dancing two more songs, and then being guided up some stairs, onto an open balcony, where the stars where dutifully and reverently pointed out. Crushed diamonds in a black and navy pool, glittering indifferently at that which was below them. Sophie stared, and her mind warped around them, falling like a falling star, being swallowed like Howl's heart was.

"Sophie?"

"Hm?" She turned to Edward, her vision blurred until it focused on his face, which was frowning slightly.

"Have you heard anything I said this past moment?"

Blushing slightly, feeling like she just had a test, failed, and was sent to her doom, she slowly shook her head. Her host sighed, and ruffled his hair lightly, a gesture so normal it surprised Sophie.

"I was wondering if you would like to come stay with myself and a few friends at my villa by the sea, to spend the rest of this lovely summer's end. It's not far, and I would be honored by your presence."

His smile reminded her of when they first met, and how it made her feel. Her disgust at herself was carefully hidden as she put a hand to her mouth in a thinking pose.

If she said no, her mind post-spell would regret it, and therefore do something stupid. If she said yes, she might seem too eager, and give the wrong impression. Although impressions weren't exactly important at this point if Edward wanted her/wanted to use her.

"I'm sorry, the stars are so lovely I couldn't help but stare at them."

_Delay, delay, delay._

"Indeed they are. At the villa, the view is even more stunning, as it is far from any towns."

_Far from any towns….oh gosh he could kill me out there…but that isn't his intention right?_

She gulped.

And sighed.

Either way, she would end up going, spell-induced or not. And she'd rather make the decision while she still had her coherent mind.

"Well then, I can't wait to see them." She smiled, and nearly cried at how gorgeous and revolting his return smile was.

He leaned in closer, and she froze.

He was too close, so close, his chest nearly touching hers, and he was leaning in closer.

She froze.

He stopped, hesitating, at her lips, giving her the chance to move forward, or away.

She froze.

_WhatdoIdoWhatdoIdoWhatdoIdo?_

He gently pressed his lips to hers, leaned back, a triumphant look on his sleepy face.

She stared, wide eyed, and could've sworn she heard a heartbroken wail in the distance.


	16. Chapter 16

***Note*  
I'm going to make this as long as possible before my brain throws up and I die. :D  
**

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_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

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**Chapter 16: In Which Time Blurs**

In the quiet town of Merriwell, the smells of dinner stewing on stoked fires mingled with the smell of burning leaves, and oncoming dusk. The air was still clutching to its summer warmth, but already wives were readying heavy down blankets for the oncoming cool nights. Living by the sea extended their summer months by a few weeks; but sadly all too soon summer was coming to an end for Merriwell. The quiet townspeople had another reason to lament the close of summer, for every year at this time; _he_ came to occupy the house on the hill. Though large enough to be a mansion, it was named House Merriwell since the time that the old nobility had stayed there in splendor. To this day, the townspeople would've been under the protection of the Merriwell line, but nearly fifty years ago, on an early fall night, the entire family had disappeared without a trace. Not truly dependent on the household since the end of the Black Wars, the townspeople were not entirely hindered. All the same, the abrupt vanishment of their source of security left the town uneasy, and prone to xenophobic tendencies. It was also most unhelpful when lights could be seen from the supposedly vacant house at night, flickering faintly from an upstairs window. The house was haunted indeed, and even the curious children known for the troublesome tendencies kept their distance. Thankfully, the sightings happened only in the early fall, and later on, they stopped completely.

As the years past, the house stayed silent, and the town was left at peace to continue its simple life. The current Mayor at the time even discussed selling the house—as it had been left to no one—in order to gather money for a school, and a proper church bell. No sooner had it been mentioned at a town meeting, rumors spread through travelers—who were too tired or indifferent of the town's inhospitable behavior to forego spending a night or two at the makeshift inn—and soon enough those who appeared of higher stature and heavier purses trickled in to take a look at the possible investment. The Mayor had turned his house, by then, into a proper inn. However, once the news of the house's past inevitably came to light, potential buyers politely took their leave. To the town's luck though, a mysterious and quiet young man arrived into town at dusk one night, and insisted on buying the house on the hill immediately.

"No tour," he said, "is necessary." Slightly perturbed, the Mayor could only shrug, and put the heavily laden coffers into the town's fund. And every year, the stranger would come more or less at the same time; sometimes alone, but sometimes with company. Though distant, he was congenial with the town's citizens on his rare visits to the town itself. Throughout his stays, he remained sequestered for the majority of the time within the house. And lately, there were strange sounds at night coming from the mansion. Ever wary, the town remained at a distance, and as long as they were left to their ignorant peace, whatever went on in that house was none of their concern.

The night had fallen, and the town's houses glowed with firelight as tired fishermen and tradesmen finished their warm dinners, and started to settle down for the night. The women shared their speculation with their husbands about the recent arrival of _him_ just the day before, and of the young girl who'd accompanied him, her face seen peeking out of the carriage windows with shining eyes.

"That sweet dear looking girl. He's never brought a lady before, has he? Well for all that it is I wouldn't let my Tess cavort with that man in that big empty house no matter how rich he is," a wife remarked to her husband, who merely grunted his assent, staring blankly out the window as he smoked heavily on his pipe. His gaze did not see the house on the hill before him, as he lost himself in his own thoughts to drown out his life mate.

The house itself was busy, servants still cleaning a year's dust away, and preparing a later dinner for their Master and Mistress. And Mistress she was, being the Master's specifically special guest. He had sent word through the Butler, Sebastian, that he expected only the best in everything for his guest, and he would not tolerate any mishaps in anything. Including behavior. That he even needed to tell them was an insult to their profession, but it was rare for their Master to demand anything but privacy. The maids giggled to themselves, wondering if their Master intended to marry this lady, and if he was _nervous._

The lady in question sat in her room, staring out of her window glumly, her chin propped up on her hand, which in turn was propped up on the windowsill. Her silken red-gold hair was falling out of its careful braid, and her feet lay unshod, free of pinching shoes. Sophie had spent the day on a tour with Edward, seeing the different parts of the house, and then the private path down to a secluded beach front where he let her happily collect different colored shells. It was fun. He was the perfect gentleman, not letting the carriage ride the day before get awkward in its length—although she did happen to fall asleep—and he'd given her enough space for herself. Even when he'd apologetically told her that his friends had canceled on the trip, (due to the fact that the two had gone in the rain, and caught the flu), she'd felt only a slight twinge of embarrassment at being alone with him, but he made her feel so comfortable. And now, she sat in her room, supposedly getting ready for dinner as the spell began to wear off, and she could feel her revulsion at her behavior.

The very night of the dance, the night of the kiss, she had gone home and stayed up till the wee hours of the morning, preparing the spell in the dark seclusion of the hives. She kept Howl's hair in a safe place with her—magically attached inside of a locket—that she instructed herself to wear at night. She'd discovered that she remembered her plans, and her instructions, and that she was free of the spell with it on and it was a relief to give herself a respite once in a while. She would wear it at night, before she slept, to remind herself. It was also a relief that she did not lose her memory of what she did outside of the spell. The only thing that was affected was her love for Howl. With the spell, her thoughts turned to Edward constantly. She found herself roaming his face unawares…and that she liked what she saw.

The spell itself was simple, and she could feel her eyes glazed as she remembered how surprisingly easy it had been…

_Gazing at the pocket watch held in her trembling hand, it showed the time to be nearly one in the morning. At her side lay a laden sack, full of the items she required. The locket with Howl's hair was secure around her neck, and she fingered it as she snapped shut the watch. Standing up with a sigh from her desk, she stretched, running her fingers through loose hair. She only felt pure determination, wanting to erase the memory of that chaste kiss from her mind. When she heard that low howl, she could feel Edward's smirk against her lips, and she cursed herself for her lack of reaction. She had plenty of time to dodge that kiss, and it would be silly of her to think Howl wouldn't have been watching. She was proud of her following actions though. She'd managed a shy, embarrassed look, had refrained from slapping the teeth out of that man, had managed to look very tired, and was given a ride home from the same coachmen who'd taken her to the dance. It was nice to see the familiar face of the kind footman again. She'd also feigned fatigue for Mrs. Fairfax, easily dodging her curious inquiries, (that no doubt would be brought up the next morning at breakfast), and had stayed up since then, furiously studying the spell book, and double checking all she needed._

_Sticking her head out of doorway, she could easily hear Mrs. Fairfax none too ladylike snores. With a soft smile at her friend, she closed her door quietly, and strapped the sack to her back. She hadn't donned her nightgown, and was instead in a plain cleaning dress. From her window was a beeline path to the hives, and, with a smile at the pun, she clambered out of it, wincing slightly when she banged her knee against the frame. Pausing slightly, she perked her ears for any noise, and when hearing nothing suspicious, continued out of the window. She fell with a soft plop onto the nearby grass, and shut her window until it was only a crack. Twisting her hair into a makeshift bun at the base of her neck, she trudged into the darkness, knowing the paths nearly as well as Mrs. Fairfax did. _

_There was a clear circle, a little way from the last hive, which would serve her purpose. Laying down her sack, she took out her white paint first, and began to draw the pentagram. It took a while, especially since she was trying to make it even, and her hair kept falling in her face. Slightly red in the face, and huffing, she managed to finally complete the lines, and stood back to inspect it. It wiggled in some places, but overall, it would have to do. She turned back to her sack, and with shaking hands, took out the knife. It was Mrs. Fairfax's, although she wasn't sure if Mrs. Fairfax remembered it for she'd found it dusty and thrown haphazardly in a corner in the attic. It was made out of obsidian, and lazy swirls of magic shone near the edge. Slowly, she unbuttoned the front of her dress, and let her left sleeve slide down, exposing her pale skin in wavering moonlight. Clutching the knife with her right hand, she bit her lip, and looked down as she touched the tip to her skin. Immediately, a pearl of blood emerged. Slowly, she traced out the pattern, gasping out in pain as the thin red lines swirled, and dripped down onto her dress. Quickly though, she cast the knife aside, and stepped into the pentagram's center, leaning over and shaking her hands a bit so that blood dropped onto the paint. She knelt slowly, ignoring the throb on her chest, and entwined her fingers together, letting her hands subconsciously form a prayer position. The blood made her hands slick, and she clutched them together tightly. _

_Taking a few deep breaths, she thought of the plea she had made up. She was never good at rimes, and knew it wouldn't even compare to the lowliest of nursery verses, but it was all she could do. Licking her lips, she opened her mouth, and started, concentrating on those she intended in her spell, her voice cracking a bit after staying silent in the dark._

"_**I ask those, in this nightly hour  
who are endowed more than I  
to supplicate me with their power  
to grant this humble rime.**_

_**Turn my love for another  
in the direction of one I loathe  
So that I might save my lover  
And save a dear friend too.  
**_

_She touched her hands to the locket on her chest, enclosing it in her sticky hands for the next part of the rime._

_**I ask that this love remain  
Hidden in my heart  
And when I see my love again  
That my love for him restart.**_

_**Until then, please let me see  
My enemy with kind eyes  
And let me regain my memory  
When the effect of this spell dies.**_

_She then raised her clasped hands to the sky in her plea, releasing the necklace, her eyes closed and faced upward. A slight wind gathered, ruffling her hair that had stubbornly fallen out again. Beneath her eyelids, she could see the light gathering at the periphery. A breath escaped her in mild surprise, and it was caught up in the falsely conjured air, which swirled relentlessly around her kneeling form._

_And then it died. With it, the light disappeared as suddenly, ironically blinding Sophie with its absence. Blearily opening her eyes, she adjusted to the dark, noticing that the pentagram had also disappeared, as well as the blood on herself. Shakily rising to her feet, she stumbled to her back, and put away her supplies, noticing the blood on the knife had also disappeared. _

_The next day, she tested herself. With the necklace on, the love she felt for Howl was near painful. When she took it off, it slowly disappeared, and she began to think of what Edward's kiss may mean. Then she put it back on, and slowly, her love for Howl returned, though not as concentrated, but she remembered. With it on, she remembered her purpose, her real love, and her plans. With it off, she wanted to be with Edward so badly she had to smack herself from getting distracted. All she knew was that she must be with him, because not only did she want to, but for some reason, it would help Calcifer. And she would always help a friend. She knew the necklace needed to be put on at night, to remind herself of something. That was all._

_She almost found herself looking forward to taking the necklace off, so that her burdens were lessened, and she could enjoy being carefree again. No matter that when she put it back on again she would hate herself a little more. Any release would be fine._

_Edward visited her often at Mrs. Fairfax's and she always made sure to keep the necklace in her room. At night, she only put it on briefly, to remind herself. She didn't want to wear out the spell, and secretly, she didn't want to wear out her bliss. She knew inside that she'd get a worse awakening when she saw Howl himself, and she was giving herself a break. _

_And she didn't wear it in the carriage. She didn't wear it when they unpacked, or had a very early supper. She only put it on the night before bed, and now…_

A loud knock on her door startled Sophie out of her reminiscing.

"Mistress Sophie, Master Edward awaits your company."

"Oh yes, I'm coming."

She hastily stood up from her relaxed position, and wiggled out of her day dress, pulling on the green one she'd set out before slumping by the window. She warned herself to be careful tonight, as she would not have the protection of the necklace. During his visits, and during this current trip, she noticed and remembered the heated looks he'd given her when he thought she was unaware, and it made her nervous. Howl had given her the same look many times on their date. The thought of Howl didn't make her keen, as it usually did, as the spell's hold on her was getting stronger at resisting the effects of Howl's single hair. It worried her a little, but not enough to give her wizard a visit to steal more of him.

Giving up on making her hair cooperate into a braid, or bun, she opted to let it loose, and tucked a few strands behind her ears. With a deep breath, she unclipped the locket from around her neck, and laid it carefully on the bedside table. As soon as she released the talisman, she felt her excitement to see Edward peak, and she brushed her skirt nervously before opening the door, and allowing herself to be escorted to the dining room by Sebastian.

The way took her down a long hallway, and two staircases. The walls were tastefully papered, and had paintings lining them every two feet. Some paintings were portraits, while others were landscapes. A few were battle scenes, and others were of pacing lions, or battling griffons. The day before, Sebastian had politely informed her that Edward was a great collector of art, and had pointed out his favorite, which was of Aphrodite and Ares, staring longingly at each other with an abyss separating them. Sophie had giggled politely.

With a bow, Sebastian presented Sophie into the dining room. The table had been altered so that it was only five feet long, but that was as short as it would go. It was meant to hold many more leaves, and many more people. Edward was standing near the fireplace, with a pensive look on his face. When Sophie arrived, he turned to her, and smiled softly, before striding towards her to take her hand.

"It is a pleasure to see you, Sophie," he said, lightly brushing her knuckles with his lips. Sophie blushed and let him steer her to the table, helping her push in her chair as she sat down. As soon as he was satisfied she was comfortable, he moved to the other side of the table, and sat down. Sitting across from him allowed her a view of his face nigh perfectly, and she took in his dark, sleepy eyes, and his tousled hair. More than once had she imagined running her fingers through it.

Suddenly, Sebastian arrived with two covered platters in each hand, without seeming to have been summoned. He placed the first in front of Sophie, uncovering it, and then to his Master. It was a red, thick looking soup that still had steam curling from it. Having not eaten since the late morning, Sophie felt her stomach gurgle slightly, and blushed, hoping Edward didn't hear. He bowed his head to her, and Sophie blushed again as he was clearly waiting for her to start. Taking the spoon she hoped was for soup, she ladled a bit, and placed it in her mouth. It was perfectly warm, and perfectly spiced, and it warmed her quickly as she ate more.

"Is it to your liking?" he asked.

"Oh, yes thank you. It is very good."

She looked up at him as she answered, and was mesmerized by how soft and warm his lips looked. Blushing, she looked back down at her soup.

The dinner was relatively quiet, as they moved through the next few courses, and Edward asked of her opinion of the food, and made light conversation of the day's activities. He told her a bit more about the house, and the town, and of the rarity of the fish, (local to the parts), they were eating. Sophie loved his voice, how soft and low it was, and she imagined it whispering in her ear. Shuddering with delight and silliness at her girlish thoughts, she placed a small piece of fish in her mouth so that she'd think of the food, and not her host.

Edward invited her to coffee on the terrace, which overlooked the ocean, and she accepted. Sipping the bitter, but warm liquid, she gazed at the stars above them.

"Sophie? May I ask you something?"

She turned to Edward, a small smile curving at her lips. She felt more comfortable around him, now that she was thoroughly fed.

"That depends what it is."

He smirked lightly, before letting his smile turn gentle. "It may be personal."

Sophie would tell him anything. "Go ahead, it's quite alright."

He nodded, shifting closer to where she leaned against the balcony rail. "I was wondering…what is your friend Howl to you?"

Howl?

Howl. Her friend…yes. They dated once.

"He's an old friend of mine, you know that. We had a little thing going, but it didn't go anywhere. I hadn't talked to him in a while, and it was a surprise to see him at the dance."

"So, you have no intention of being with him?"

Was Edward asking if she was available? She laughed inwardly. He did kiss her, didn't he?

"No, I haven't thought of it at all."

Edward moved closer, their arms touching, and she could feel his light chuckle.

"I'm sorry, I must sound silly. It's just that he seemed…very possessive of you. You two did live together during your ensorcellement."

Sophie laughed, and some part of her prompted her to say something that was ridiculous. But she wanted Edward to be jealous. _You minx_, she thought.

"Well, I don't think he's let me go yet. He was rather…upset that you had invited me to your ball, and insinuated improper things. He's a jealous man, but then, he always was. But you don't have to worry," she smiled up at him. "You have nothing to worry about."

He smiled again. Bless him, she loved his smile. "And…you are not uncomfortable being so unsupervised here? With me?"

He was teasing her. He might've been serious, but Sophie was no fool, and that was definite teasing. The thought made her giddy, because he _wanted_ to be alone with her. Not for the first time did she wonder what really happened with his friends.

"I'm very comfortable with you. You're a gentleman. And besides," she said, gesturing to the butler who stood a polite distance away. "We've got Sebastian to make sure you don't sully me."

He laughed, and leaned in close to her face. "What if I want to sully you?"

Sophie let out a breath, and looked at him as he drew closer, her face turning warm. He closed his eyes for a second, and Sophie was sure he would kiss her, but he turned away at the last minute, pacing, and a swirl of cool air replaced him.

"I'm sorry Sophie. My questions did have reason, however silly they seemed." He turned to look at her, his eyes burning strangely.

"I needed to make sure that you were free to consider what I wanted to ask you tonight."

Sophie merely stared at him, wondering what in the world he was going on about. He strode towards her, and kneeled beside her, gently grasping her right hand.

"Sophie, I know we've only known each other briefly, but I feel that I have met the woman who I wish to spend the rest of my life with. I would like you in my life Sophie, and I want to keep you with me in every way possible. Sophie Hatter, will you marry me?"

Her jaw nearly dropped. She knew Edward was fond of her, but that he wanted to marry her? She swallowed hard, and stared at his beautiful, yearning face. They'd only known each other for perhaps two months. But, did that matter? Would she be here, alone with him, if she didn't expect a future for them? She imagined herself walking down the aisle to him, holding his children, being his bride…

She wanted that.

She looked down again where he waited, patience in his posture, but his eyes were anxious and tense.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I will marry you."

His smile was jubilant and victorious as he gently pushed the ring onto her finger, and he embraced her to him as he stood up.

"Oh Sophie, you don't know how happy you've made me," he said, muffled in her hair. He leaned back from her, his eyes shining with a glint Sophie couldn't place, and he pressed his lips to hers. At that point, her thoughts fled her mind, and she focused on his caressing warmth, and the hands that dug into her hair as she clutched to his lapels. When she returned his kiss, she nearly melted at the virile growl that was prompted from his throat, and she swore she'd never be able to fix her hair properly again.

Later that night, as she pulled on her nightgown, and washed her still red cheeks, she sighed, and mindlessly put on her locket as she settled on the edge of her bed. Her warm, fuzzy feelings faded away, and the tingle of her lips made her eyes widen with the shocked and recognition of what she did.

"Dear God. I said _yes._"

Tears slipped unheeded down her face, as she stared out of the window where her candle flickered into the night. It may have been part of the plan, but she couldn't hold back the misery. The misery of her choice, and the misery that she didn't hate Edward as much as she should.

***Note*  
I'm too f-in lazy/tired/sick to go proofread 10 pages. T__T I hope it's long enough and not to filleryish~ I dono when the next update will be, but it will BE.  
REVIEW IF YOU PLEASE.  
**


	17. Chapter 17

***Note*  
I plan on replying to every review I receive from now on. I'm sorry for being so slackerful D: I take an unhealthy amount of joy whenever I read a review, or feedback, la la, and I wanted to say how much I really truly appreciate them. :D And please send your thanks to **qman621** who prompted this chapter to be sent out earlier than planned. :)  
AND TO THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN WITH ME SINCE THE BEGINNING and have also given me these ESSAY like reviews I LOVE YOU AND THANK YOU~**

**ALSO. Please vote on the poll in my profile!  
**

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_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

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**Chapter 17: In Which There is a Surprise Visit**

The cooks would not let her set one foot in the kitchen. On Sophie's third attempt, the head cook had called for Edward to escort her out; the last thing she wanted to happen. For the past couple of days, since the proposal and her acceptance, she'd taken to fastidiously wearing the locket, and avoiding Edward. In the mornings, she would fell to the beach. In the afternoons, she made a point to miss lunch, and she always retired earlier than necessary after dinner. The disturbing part was that Edward didn't even seem to care at all. When she had first missed lunch, he caught her as she returned from the beach, and had Sebastian organize some repast for her. He had watched her until she finished eating, before smiling the smile she was learning to hate again, and disappearing into the house where he would be gone till dinner. The second time she missed lunch she came back to the house alone, and had found cold cut sandwiches waiting for her in her room.

The time after lunch, however, left Sophie with nothing to do. Hence, the kitchen escapades. Of one of the many things she missed, cooking was high on her list. It made her feel useful, and she enjoyed making things with hard work, although cooking was hardly ever hard work. It frustrated her to no end that she was prevented from even making a simple omelet, or even cookies. She did not expect to be so thoroughly turned out.

The head cook stood by her as they waited for Edward, preventing her from any sort of escape. Her entire being quivering like a child about to be chastised, she nearly wanted to laugh at the absurdity of how she was being treated. However, the head cook was a formidable person, with beefy arms, a pudgy countenance, and heavy eyebrows that were tilted in an angry fashion. Something made her feel that if she even tried to make a run for it, she would somehow be caught by giant butcher knife. The thought made her eyes close in fear and exasperation.

"Now, now, what could be the matter?"

Sophie's eyes shot open, and Edward stood before them, an amused and patronizing smile on his face.

"The Miss wants to cook. Can't have her fumbling about in me kitchen,' the head cook deadpanned. Sophie turned to him, a look of outrage on her face. She was certainly not so green that she'd 'fumble' in a kitchen. She knew well enough how to cook, and was about to voice her opinion on the implications he voiced when Edward chuckled, interrupting her as she was about to unleash her indignation.

"Ah, Sophie my darling. As much as I love to indulge you, a kitchen is no proper place for a lady." He then took her by the arm, and began to steer her towards the main house. "Let's find something else that may occupy your time? I know I have been a most neglective host lately, and I sorely apologize."

"But," quipped Sophie, intent on explaining that she was no lady, and that the kitchen wasn't a place specifically for specific people.

"How about I take you to my library and you can find a book to read?" he interrupted smoothly. Sophie huffed and nodded. He began to softly talk about what he was currently working on, and she spaced out as she found herself wondering why his touch on her arm did not repulse her as it was supposed to. Did it mean the locket really was wearing down? If so, would she have to take it off in order to give it a rest? But she wouldn't dare to, fearing what could happen. In any case, she needed to get out of this little vacation as soon as possible, and talk to Calcifer. She accepted Edward's proposal, so shouldn't Calcifer be receiving his end of his contract? She hoped that Howl had shown enough…suffering to suffice Edward's satisfaction and that she could break off this false engagement and set things right. She had thought a lot about Calcifer's actions lately, and wondered if seeing the Witch of the Waste's demon in human form had sparked his obsession. That demon had used whatever was left of the Witch's hear t to hold the semblance of a human, and Calcifer no longer had that ability. Not that he would do so, for it took a lot of toll on the Witch's health and soul. It was hard to doubt it, as before then, Calcifer had never voiced any sort of longing for a human body. She remembered the day when she'd bought new clothes and Calcifer's tone when he'd complimented her…

"Sophie?"

Edward's voice broke her out of her reverie.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking. What were you saying?"

He smiled indulgingly. "We're here in my study, as I think my collection here might appeal to your tastes more. I keep my collection of classic novels here, as they tend to hold sentimentality."

"Oh? How so? Do you enjoy the classics?" She would've never thought of Edward as a reader of romance or adventure.

"No," his countenance turned slightly dark. "They were my sister's. She…passed away some time ago."

Sophie's face softened. She wouldn't know what to do if one her sisters died. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Ah don't worry my darling. Just be sure to put them back when you're finished," he said, his face turning bright again. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and assured her to make herself comfortable, as he had a good amount of work to do. He'd come to check on her later.

Sophie sighed when he left, and slumped into one of the chairs next to the fireplace. She was in no mood for reading, as whatever fiction held would not distract her from her dramatic life.

Not for the first time, she wondered what would've happened if she had just told Howl Calcifer's predicament. There was no contract holding her, but Calcifer had expressly forbid her from telling him. A reminder she had barely given acknowledgement to that night, but had heeded. They both knew if Howl found out, he would either destroy Edward, or be destroyed by Edward. If he killed Edward, Calcifer would not gain back his magic. And if he tried to retrieve Calcifer's power, Edward was apparently powerful enough to be more than enough of a match against Howl in a Duel. Either way, it was futile to tell him. And all the same, Sophie somehow felt that if she told him, everything would magically fix itself. She would be with Howl, most likely his wife, and Calcifer would be free, and with a human body if he so wished.

The thought of being a wife suddenly struck a chord within her, and she cringed as she remembered Martha and Michael's upcoming nuptials. She had not spoken with her family for nearly two months, and she suddenly realized she had forgotten them in her troubles. They would be so worried about her and the thought made her ashamed. However, it was another reason to give when she asked Edward to return home. She could not stay in this house any longer, alone with him. Not only did he scare her, the very house chilled her. It seemed, as the season slowly turned into a cold fall, the house became foreboding.

Sophie sat up straight, as she determined her plans. She would return home, and set things right with her family. She would visit Calcifer, and make sure he was restored. And then, she would leave Edward and tell Howl everything, and beg for his forgiveness. She'd deal with whatever repercussions of leaving Edward afterwards. The thought chilled her, because she knew that Edward would most likely not let her go so easily, especially when Howl wouldn't be 'miserable' anymore. Though how Edward knew what Howl was feeling, or doing, Sophie didn't particularly want to know. It was hard to remember how powerful he was, with the persona that he held. But everything would be alright, as long as she had Howl. If he'd have her that is…

She sighed, and stared into the fire once again. She'd make sure to think her plans through this time. She didn't want to constantly make the mistake of the first born over and over. Was she allowed to learn, and change her mistakes? She surely had enough life altering experiences to satiate whoever decided the first born was the screw-up.

Sophie was so caught up in her thoughts that, even though she was staring at the flames, she didn't notice when they started to shift, and slightly change color, beginning to form some sort of semblance to a face.

Two eyes meekly rolled up, a small mouth opening slightly.

"Sophie!"

The voice was soft, but it was loud enough to startle her, so much that she let out a little shriek and subsequently toppled out of her chair. Staring up at the fireplace she'd fallen in front of, she felt a sharp pang of recognition, one that distinctly cut through her foggy, spelled mind.

"Calcifer?!"

***Note***

**:D  
Review?**


	18. Chapter 18

***NOTE*  
I read through the old chapters, and I have found so many discrepancies and things like information that is disregarded in a consecutive chapter and I PROMISE I WILL FIX IT SOON. I just can't deal with myself anymore much less editing. T_T Beta's anyone?  
**

**_ALSO. IMPORTANT.  
THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL NOT BE OUT UNTIL MID/LATE NOVEMBER, EARLYISH DECEMBER. As I am doing NaNoWriMo, while at the same time doing college apps and SAT studying._  
So yea. :D Don't kill me.**

**ALSO PLEASE VOTE IN THE POLL ON MY PROFILE goddammit.**

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_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

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**Chapter 18: In Which There is a Brief Reunion**

"…Hi."

Sophie stared at the familiar fire that looked down at her face, feeling slightly dizzy. It was like being doused with ice cold water after being spun around numerous times. All the confusion, haziness, and fright were replaced with dawning clarity.

"Oh, Calcifer!" And with that, Sophie promptly burst into tears. Calcifer looked distinctly uncomfortable as she spouted water from her eyes, and so politely waited until she was finished to speak.

"Sophie? Are you alright?"

She nodded vaguely.

"I'm kind of surprised to see you here. I have a meeting with Edward around now."

She stared at him quizzically as he spoke, until his emphasis on 'meeting with Edward' caught her in the midst of her sniffling. She glanced quickly around the room, wondering if there were any listening spells, not doubting Edward to have placed a few around. In fact, Sophie wouldn't be surprised if he was spying on her right now. Fussing with her skirt, she replied nervously to Calcifer:

"I'm sorry for crying, it's just so nice to see you. And, well, I wanted to cook, but Edward suggested reading and brought me here. But, I lost interest, and hence you found me sitting in that chair." She rubbed an eye with the back of her hand, smearing away her traces of relief and surprise.

"Ah. Is he coming back soon?"

Sophie bit her lip. He did say he had things to do, but never specified what, and how long it would be. And since he had a meeting with Calcifer, wouldn't he have put her elsewhere? Now she was certain he was spying on her.

"Oh, most likely. I hope he does, I've hardly seen him these past few days. And to think he just left me here when you two had a meeting! Did you know he proposed? Oh Calcifer, I'm going to be _married_ now. But I've felt so shy, so I suppose I couldn't complain. I hardly know what to say to him, but I…love him…so. It's good to see you Calcifer, it's been too long."

Sophie cringed at her little nonsensical babble of lies. However, Calcifer seemed to get her hints. He flickered lightly, and sighed.

"Yes, we've all missed you so much. Your step mother and your sisters have come visiting nearly every day, with the idea you might pop up there. It didn't matter that Mrs. Fairfax told them you were out with Atkin or that we all received wedding invitations," he scoffed. "And Howl's been a bit off."

Sophie froze slightly, before leaning closer to Calcifer.

"Oh. Has he?"

"Yeah, actually. Although I'm sure it's nothing to do with you, he has been a bit sick and depressed, and has been disappearing for a few days at a time. Like now, he hasn't come back to the castle for nearly a week so far." Calcifer's tone was casual, but Sophie sensed his worry. And despite what he said, they both knew it was because of her.

Then, what Calcifer said earlier hit her.

"Wait, you got a wedding invitation, Cal?"

He moved in what seemed to be a shrug. "Yup, the castle got one, and Fanny got one for the rest of your family. Actually, it seems a lot of people in Market Chipping are invited to. You've certainly wasted no time."

Her eyes narrowed. "I suppose Edward sent them out; I've not even started any planning except discussing…guests…with Edward." Ah, Sophie realized. All those talks about people Sophie knew at dinner must've been for this purpose. She had wondered why he was so interested. At this rate, she was sure he'd invited the King too, from what they'd talked about. At the time, she'd been thankful he'd started the dinner conversations. Now that she knew why, she was frustrated and annoyed at how easily he'd gained the information _he'd_ wanted out of her. At least, this time, it wasn't dangerous.

She'd have to be more careful. The point of blocking the spell, (with whatever feeble power was left in the locket), was to prevent herself from being manipulated. It would all be in vain if she let herself be manipulated regardless.

"Oh. Well, I definitely want to…." The rest of Calcifer's sentence was cut off as the door to the study opened, and Edward strode in purposefully.

"Well hello Calcifer, I'm sorry to be late. Hello Sophie darling. I'd forgotten about my meeting, and I'm sorry to have left you two to each other under such a circumstance," he said, before quirking his eyebrows in amusement. "Although I can see neither of you are complaining."

Sophie had stood up abruptly upon Edward's entrance, and was fidgeting with her hands. She wanted to speak, but Calcifer started before she had thought of something to say.

"I'm insulted you forgot about me Atkin, but I'll forgive you this time."

Sophie glanced down at her friend, and saw that he was superbly feigning polite friendliness. Though he wasn't human, she could easily see his discomfort. Months of living with him polished that skill.

"I shall have to make it up to you nonetheless, of course. Now Sophie, though I could never bear to be apart from you, Calcifer and I have some business. Did you know that Calcifer is an excellent…ehm…how would you phrase it my friend?" He turned to Calcifer.

Calcifer paused for a moment.

"Communications coordinator. I'm better than the postman."

Edward laughed, and nodded his assent. Gesturing towards Sophie, he beckoned for her, and she came to him slowly, feeling wary and uncomfortable.

"I'll see you at dinner my darling."

She nodded, and quickly made to leave the room, but not before Edward had managed to place a gentle kiss on her temple.

"Oh, Sophie?"

She turned at the door, a questioning look on her face as the fire called to her.

"Come visit soon. Michael and I miss you." _And Howl_, they tacitly tacked onto the end of his sentence.

"Of course, Cal! I'll have to stop by the neighborhood anyway, to see Fanny and come home. I'm sure she's having a cow since I've not talked to her in months." Sophie ignored the way Edward's hands twitched slightly, and waved slightly at the fire.

"Though since you're popping around here to visit Edward, feel free to come and visit me too! I'm sure these meetings must be dull," she said, forcing out a small chuckle. "I'll see you later, then."

And with that she stepped out into the drafty, dark hallway, closing the door behind her with a click. Fingering the locket, she figured it was a good time to reinforce it with the scraps of Howl's suit. She'd kept the little blue triangles—after surreptiously seizing Howl's hair at the ball—as a back up to the hair. She used the hair in lieu of the triangles for sentimental reasons, but it wouldn't do if her locket ran out now just because she wanted to keep the hair 'special' by seclusion. Already, as she drifted further from Calcifer's presence, the clarity he had brought was slowly drifting away and her brains were once again churning in obscurity.

Sophie made a beeline for her room, and all the while, desperately hoped that what her fiancé and her friend were discussing was Calcifer's life back. As she passed windows with their heavy curtains drawn back, she could see the sky already darkening, and the windows had a slight fog from the impending cold.

Her steps echoed in the lonely passages, the paintings on the wall giving her accusatory glares. Shivering and holding herself, not for the first time she wondered if she'd gotten lost again. However, she soon turned onto a familiar corridor that led almost directly to her room. Stepping forward with renewed eagerness, she made towards it.

"Mistress Sophie?"

With a gasp at the phantom voice, she twirled on her heel in the direction of the call.

And huffed a sigh.

Sebastian stood politely behind her, bowing.

"If I may, dinner is served. Shall we?"

***NOTE*  
-cry- REVIEW? THEY MAKE ME SO HAPPY. SO HAPPY THAT I MIGHT UPDATE SOONER THAN I AM ABLE etcetc.**


	19. Chapter 19

***Note***

**Hiiii. In this chapter, I am experimenting with line breaks.**

**Rest of Author's note at the bottom~. Enjoy!**

------------

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

------------

**Chapter 19: In Which All Really Falls Apart**

The dining hall was empty when Sophie arrived with Sebastian. Candles were lit around the room, their flickering more ominous than warm. The butler stepped ahead of her to pull out her designated chair at one far end of the table, and waited for her to gingerly set herself down before tucking her forward.

"The Master will be here presently," he said, before disappearing through lacquered swinging doors.

Calcifer's presence was already dissipating at a fast rate, leaving Sophie with a nauseous feeling. Her locket was still on, but its charge was not even a tenth as potent as Calcifer had been. She thought back to their brief conversation, and felt a small spike of worry. Howl was missing, and though she knew he was perfectly capable of handling himself, she also knew he attracted trouble like flies to gore. How long had she been staying with Edward? It was high time she left, and went home. Even Fanny's company would be preferable.

_Wait._ A sudden though occurred to Sophie. _Isn't Edward sucking Calcifer's magic? Would that mean that he both attracted and repelled me, having bits of Calcifer in him? Have I been attracted to _him_ all this time, and the locket was a placebo??_

The nauseous feeling returned tenfold, and Sophie rubbed her aching head. Could she be falling for Edward? The spell she cast would ensure it to a degree, but since he had Calcifer in him…what did that mean? Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes, and her jaw clenched. Everything was falling to ruin, no matter how she tried to keep the pieces together.

_Figures…_

A door complained slightly, accompanied by quiet steps that entered the room, breaking her despondent thought stream.

"I hope I have not kept you waiting long, my darling?"

Sophie snapped her head up to greet the voice, and was suddenly filled with a sickening sense of joy. Edward was there, standing behind his chair, arms draped over the top.

"No, not at all!" she said. Her smile faltered slightly though, as she felt her brain wracked with another wave of confusion. The sight of her fiancé both pleased and disgusted her and the sensation was entirely unpleasant. Her previous thoughts planned to burgeon on her, but she decided to ignore them. Her tired head needed a break.

Sebastian appeared suddenly as Edward stepped aside to sit. The butler gracefully drew back the chair for his master, and then cleared his throat elegantly.

"Dinner tonight will be a light garden salad, followed by roasted duck with a side of baked herb tubers, carved carrots, and a cranberry sauce."

He turned to bend to Edward.

"The white or the red tonight?"

"The special brand, please."

"As you wish, Master Edward." With that said, he disappeared again, only for two maids to appear with two plates of artfully tossed garden greens, which they lightly set in front of Edward and Sophie.

Sophie picked up a fork, and stuck a leaf on it before placing it in her mouth mechanically. She wasn't hungry, but she knew Edward would not begin eating until she had, and if she didn't, he would stare at her until she did something. And then, if that failed to work, would inquire if the food was not to her taste, as well as a few other passive hints.

The food was fresh and tasty, and Sophie slowly made her way through her plate, peeking under lashes frequently at Edward. He was unusually quiet, compared to most nights where he would easily coax her into light conversation. He wasn't even looking at her, and didn't seem to even have the decency to appear deep in thought to explain his lack of attention. Instead, he had the face of someone eating alone contentedly, and Sophie's ego took a weak blow.

She wrinkled her nose in discomfort and placed her fork down. Something was wrong with her Edward and it seemed important to make amends. In fact she was compelled to look up from her salad fixed stare, to her fiancé, to make conversation.

_Wait…_my_ Edward?_

"So, how did your meeting with Calcifer go?" Her timid voice broke the cloying silence, slightly reverberating around the heavily tapestried room. Edward slowly looked up—as if just realizing her presence—and gave a small, satisfied smile.

He studied her for a moment, a knowing glance grazing her perturbed face, before speaking.

"It went quite satisfactorily. Calcifer is a…useful hand in my business." He paused again, as if to gauge her before speaking again. "I realize it has been a while since you've seen your friend. I take it he was well received?"

Feeling slightly relieved at this willing, albeit seemingly ulterior contributions for conversation, she nodded a bit eagerly.

"Oh yes, Calcifer is a dear friend." She fiddled with the tablecloth where it met the edge of the table, feeling uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. In general, his whole countenance was outwardly lazy, but it only hid a sharp and calculating mind, which she knew was currently fixed on her.

He chuckled shortly to himself, after a pause of silence, and released her from his gaze to lean back comfortably in his chair and smile contemplatively at his empty plate.

"Yes. A dear friend," he said, mostly as if confirming it to himself rather than in reply.

A maid came into the room to clear away their plates, and was immediately followed by two others and Sebastian. The maids placed two covered dishes in front of Edward and Sophie, respectively, while Sebastian confirmed the wine with Edward. Sophie missed Edward's decline of any alcohol, and Sebastian walked over to pour her a glass, the red liquid swishing darkly in the crystal.

As her dish was placed in front of her and uncovered, Sophie was nervously picking at her dress, feeling the need to speak and make things better (whatever those things were), but every time her mouth opened, it would only close as awkwardness choked her throat.

All of a sudden, her heart ached terribly for her sisters, for Fanny, for Calcifer, Michael, Howl…

Oh how she wanted to go home!

But that would mean leaving Edward…alone to plot, of course. Her nose scrunched up again as she tried to justify her conflicting thoughts.

"Sophie? You're not eating?"

Her head snapped up, and her hand reached automatically for a fork.

"Sorry." She stuck her silverware into her carrots, poking them haphazardly. She needed to go home. She needed Calcifer. She needed a plan. She did not need to sit her pretending to eat with someone she no longer had concrete feelings about, someone who was now silently boring holes into her forehead with his eyes. She let her fork down with a small clatter, and reached for her wine, downing a sizeable gulp to calm her nerves. After another, smaller sip, she placed her glass down and picked up her fork again, eyes flickering up to meet Edward's. He had just placed a laden fork in his mouth, and began to chew it, his eyes lidded.

When she swallowed her own mouthful of carrots, placed her fork down and leaned forwards in her chair. The movement made her feel dizzy, and she blinked a few times to dispel the wavering images.

"Edward, I've been meaning to talk to you about something." One hand leaning on the table reached up to rub her eye, as she tried to focus. She knew she was a lightweight, but she'd only had a little wine. It must've been pretty potent. Edward seemed fine though, as she looked over, and it seemed he'd already finished his glass.

"Yes, my darling?"

She gave up on shaking her tipsiness, and instead focused on what she wanted to say.

"It's been wonderful staying here with you, but I would like to return home and see my family. Surely they would be worried, and I know that Fanny would be fretting very much knowing that I'm here…unsupervised with my promised one. Couldn't we continue the…wedding plans back at home?"

Now she was seeing two Edwards. Maybe she had more wine then she remembered…?

"Ah yes. Your family. I'm sure you miss them. Your sister, she is getting married too, as I recall?"

"Yes, she is."

He nodded. "And your friends too, I'm sure you miss them as well."

"Yes, I do." She narrowed her fuzzy eyes at him slightly, feeling like he was leading her somewhere she didn't want to go.

"I guess my presence alone isn't enough for you, but I'm not surprised."

Sophie made to deny it, but he continued on without notice, cutting her off.

"You always did seem a little skittish near me. But who could blame you? You barely know me, and all of a sudden we've fallen in love. It's lovely."

She fidgeted in her seat, and reached for her wine glass, taking a sip to cover her discomfort. Part of her felt she should be scared of what he was saying, but she couldn't bring herself to interrupt him and redirect the conversation after words of reassurance.

"Yes. Though I suppose it takes very little to pretend to love someone. It didn't take me much effort, though I must say I did a far better job of it than you."

Sophie nearly fell forward, and caught herself on her hand. Staring up at Edward, she felt her insides freeze and she could barely breathe.

"Wh-what?" she choked out.

"Oh, yes. You did your best though, I'm sure, and it will suit my purposes in the end. And, I have a beautiful woman to cater to my needs—vendettas, friendly company. And soon, I hope, more intimate company."

Sophie swallowed fearfully, and made to stand up on her shaking legs, but she pitifully fell backwards, knocking her head on top of the chair.

"Hopefully I won't have to drug you in the future. Careful my darling, you won't have control over your motor movements for a while. Though you'll be able to think quite clearly; I knew you'd appreciate that."

She glared at him ferociously from where she sat prone in her chair.

"You…I would…I could…" Her mouth felt like it was weighed down with iron, and she could barely form words as she watched him stand up from his chair, and stalk over to her.

"I usually take my pick from the village if I've a…an itch so to speak, but you should feel lucky that I find you appealing enough to wait and prime. However, I wished that your desire to leave could've been delayed, as I'd planned to have you before you expressed it. It would've made keeping you here longer easier. I don't want to have to deal with a little escape artist.

"Oh yes, I know all about your little conspiring with Calcifer, and I must say you both fell nicely into my plans. It's lovely that you're such a beauty too; makes you all the better for the taking."

He noticed her enraged expression, and laughed a horrible, vindictive laugh that she'd never heard before. Leaning down next to her with his elbows on the table, she could feel his breath blow on her face as he spoke.

"Oh don't worry, it wasn't as if I wouldn't have plucked you if you weren't pretty. I'd have had to bear it either way. It's just part of taking everything from Pendragon, and your innocence is just another check on the list. Nothing entirely personal, just so you know."

He reached out and traced her jaw line with a cool finger, smirking as she flinched from his touch.

"Now, now, my darling, I'll be sure to make it nice. Can't have you having entirely unpleasant memories."

He stepped up and away from her, and turned, showing her his back.

"I did wish that I might've gotten to see your fiery spirit, but you're quite subdued when you're undercover. I must say I was disappointed. And, since you were pressed enough to spell yourself in love with me, which I'm a little disappointed in as well, it was necessary to partially sedate you."

He turned back around, and the predatory look in his eyes made Sophie's stomach plummet.

"So, before we start the fun, I'll just give you a little boost on your spell. If you're enjoying what I'm enjoying, we'll have so much more fun, don't you agree?"

"I'll…k-kill…y…you," she spat out, her limbs quivering in anger and fear.

"Ah, there's the little spit-fire I want. Anyway, time is of the essence. Shall we?" And with that, he stepped over to her, and scooped her limp body into his arms. With what little energy she had, she flailed and scratched at him. She would've spit on him, but she feared she didn't have enough energy for it to get further than her chin.

"Ah-ah, my darling. Save your love scratches for later, when I can fully enjoy them."

The house seemed entirely empty, with no one in sight. Her eyes darted everywhere, frantically looking for someone to come to her rescue. Though, in reality, she knew that no one would. And that was why the corridors were completely empty as Edward leisurely walked to his bedroom.

In his room, he laid her on the bed gently, before returning to the door and soundly locking it. When he turned around, she could see his hand was enveloped in a red-blue flame. It looked like Calcifer, and almost felt like him, but there was something slightly off.

_He must have been suppressing it…what is he going to do?_

She squirmed slightly on the bed, in a futile attempt to further herself from Edward.

"Don't worry my darling, this won't hurt a bit. I'm only reversing your spell, a little bit, by putting a bit of me in you…don't look so surprised. It was presumptuous of you to think you could so easily fool a master such as me."

She was powerless as he placed a hand on her forehead, and her sight suddenly plummeted into darkness.

* * *

When she came to, she was lying on her side, feeling weak and confused. A face loomed into view, smiling pleasantly, before it leaned in and kissed her.

"Mm…Edward?"

"Yes darling."

"What happened?"

"Well, we were coming to bed, when you complained of feeling dizzy, and fainted. Do be careful with the wine next time, hm?"

"Oh, yes, sorry Edward dear."

Sophie smiled happily as Edward leaned forward to kiss her again, pressing her into the mattress, causing her to arch up in pleasure.

"Just lay back, my darling, and I'll take care of you."

Sophie moaned in agreement.

* * *

The next morning, Sophie woke up to the sun shining obnoxiously on her face. The minute she could coherently gather her thoughts, a rush of pain swamped her senses, making her groan out loud. Her head was pounding with a hangover, and every muscle in her body ached. As she mentally scanned her body for all the aches and pains, she noticed a more prominent pain in her lower abdomen, and a bit lower than that as well.

Memories from the night before followed, and she felt her insides crumble as she remembered every touch, every sigh, and every sensation. She remembered how she felt, and how much she enjoyed it. How gentle _he_ was, how his every touch lit her on fire. Sophie gagged as the recollection of the night before overloaded her mind, and rolled to the side of the bed where she dry-wretched over the edge.

"Now, I hope that is not indicative of my performance last night. It is too early for morning sickness, I would think."

She snapped her body forward, and then winced at the pain it sent through her body. Edward had just come into the room, looking freshly cleaned and dressed, and entirely indifferent.

"You monster…" she growled out, involuntarily quivering in his presence, half in fear, half in remembrance.

"Ah, yes, well, I'll comfort myself knowing that you liked me better in bed. Anyway," he continued, preventing her from hissing out an angry retort. "I won't keep you from staying here; in fact I've told the stable boy to help you with whatever traveling needs you might require. No need to keep you anymore."

"But," his tone turned cold, and dangerous, making the blood drain from her face. "We are still getting married. If you in any way betray the truth of our engagement, I will kill all who know. Your mother, your sisters, your future brother-in-law. Anyone. Everyone. And if you tell Pendragon, I will let him see our joyful coupling that you so eagerly took part in. And then I will kill him, slowly, with you watching, helpless. And then I will kill the rest of your family. And then you." His eyes seemed to burn with a dark fire, mesmerizing her like a mouse trapped before a snake.

And then the fire went out.

"I hope we are clear?" he said, quite pleasantly.

Sophie was silent, frozen in fear.

"_Are we clear?_" His voice turned deadly, as he took a threatening step forward.

Startled into reaction, she nodded.

He took a step back. "Good. The cook left breakfast simmering; you should partake."

Edward, her fiancé and captor, turned and walked out of the door. She slumped in his bed, finally unlocked from his fearsome gaze.

"Oh, and Sophie?"

She looked up, fear and defeat shining in her rain-blue eyes.

"I'll be fetching you a week before the wedding." And then he was gone, and the door had clicked shut.

* * *

Sophie tugged a small carpet bag up into her grip, as she straightened her clean dress. Her hair was still wet from her long soak in the bath, and the strands that fell out of her bun fell in straggly strands on her face.

It was already early afternoon. When she had finally stopped crying and got out of bed, she'd immediately called for a bath, and had stayed there and scrubbed herself until she felt somewhat clean, and very raw. There was no erasing the dirty feeling that lay between her legs, but at least her muscles were loosened by the hot water, and the blood was washed away.

The hallways were empty, as usual, and this time Sophie felt grateful for it. She couldn't stand to look at the staff, knowing that they would have done nothing to help her, aware of her predicament or not.

She made her way outside out a side door, and turned to walk to the stables. The stables were nicely built, with deep burnished oak walls, and sturdily built stalls and doors. Just inside waited the stable boy who eyed her quietly and curiously, and brought her a fully-equipped horse when she asked for one.

It killed her to use anything that was _his_, but she had no choice. She didn't have her trusty cane, and she was too tired and depressed to cast more elaborate spells. If anything, the horse was an innocent animal that just happened to be _his_ property, and as soon as she got home, she could smack it's rump as hard as she could to send it home.

Or maybe she'd just give it to a poor beggar. A hefty gold investment of _his_, freely given away, would make her feel a little better.

Sophie mounted the placid, well-built mare, (which seemed as innocent as she'd earlier surmised), after securely lashing her back to the saddle. Turning to the main road that led down to, through, and out of the town below the mansion, she nickered the mare into a canter, and then a gallop, and raced her way home.

* * *

***Note***

**(REVIEWWWW)  
**

**WELL HELLO THERE. I did not foresee my horrible unupdatey behavior five months ago, but, it was done. Because I'm just me and things happen. o;**

**I bet you hated me.**

**I don't know if you hate me more with this update. :D**

**I just wrote the majority of this today, and I actually don't have a 'bank of chapters'. Because I'm lazy. So yes. But no worries, the next update is not arriving after five months. I promise.**

**Also, I'm sorry if the chapter is a bit flimsy, as it was a big brain blurt. Huhu. ;3 Please feel free to point out places in need of edits.  
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**REVIEW PLEASE.**

**OH YEA.**

**THANK YOU TO ALL WHO REVIEWED THESE PAST MONTHS. As usual, they arrived in my e-mail box, and I read them, loved them, felt guilty, and saved them. (: And then I got to reply and read them all over again. To those who were using Anonymous reviews, thank you so much for reviewing! I loved each and every one of your reviews, and was sad when there was no option to reply. Because you were anonymous. ): **

**ILYGAIZ.**

**REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. Please.  
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	20. Chapter 20

Meanwhile, in Edward's study, Edward had just popped a fresh grape into his mouth, feeling quite satisfied with himself. His plans were all unfolding as he wanted them to, and popping the little ginger's cherry was just, well, the cherry on top.

"Mwa ha ha ha. Soon I shall have vengeance!"

The words came out a bit slurred as he cackled around his grape. He tapped his cheek thoughtfully, and speculated all the different things he'd do once Howl was vanquished and Calcifer's powers were all his.

Sophie as his wife didn't really excite him, though he figured she'd be a good thrill in bed. She was good enough enchanted. It would work.

Smug, Edward was about to swallow the grape wallowing in his mouth, when Calcifer popped into his fireplace.

"SURPRISE!"

Startled, Edward swallowed the grape the wrong way, and it stuck in his throat. His face turning red, then purple, he waved his arms around frantically, clutching his throat, and reaching at Calcifer, while the fire demon merely looked on questioningly.

"Why Edward, whatever could be the matter?"

And then, Edward slumped out of his chair, dead.

Calcifer shouted in glee, and turned a bright purple as all his power returned to him and he burst from the fireplace, flying all the way to wherever Sophie was to tell her the good news.

The End.

***Note***

**I kid. **

**Anyway, here's the next chapter. (: I ignored all the areas in which I felt like stopping until when I did stop which you will see where that is.**

**Rest of author note at end.**

**Enjoy!  
**

------------

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

------------

**Chapter 20: In Which Sophie Goes Home**

Sophie rid herself of the horse as soon as she reached a town a good distance away from what she left behind her. The placid equine was sold to the first person she could find who was interested. She wouldn't have last long on the horse anyway, as each jolt along the ill-paved roads sent a spike of pain to her abdomen. She'd only stayed on for so long out of sheer stubbornness and pride, and with a heavy desire to escape weighing on her mind. Only later along the road did it occur to her to have begged another horse, or something else, from the townspeople of whose town she had recently fled.  
_Not thinking again…_

It was nearly dusk when she clattered into a small hamlet, a quiet and out of the way place with few curious, but accommodating people. The young man she'd sold the horse to had brilliant blonde hair that made her painfully nostalgic, but with a now heavy purse of silver. She tugged her bags up onto her shoulder and walked into the only inn of the town, a sign of a golden goose swinging over the doorway.

A dim, simply furnished common room greeted her, the low light making her blink from the change from the outside. A fire burned cheerfully, warming the empty furniture and the sleepy looking innkeeper who was stationed behind the bar-cum-front desk. Pushing a sweaty strand of hair back into place from her brow, Sophie walked over to the innkeeper who now had his tired attention fixed on her.

"I'd like a room for the night, please."

The man adjusted his battered spectacles, and reached under the bar with arthritic hands for the log book.

"Just one?" he questioned, his eyes mildly curious. Sophie merely nodded, and let her gaze wander the room briefly as the old man set the book open in front of her, before reaching back down again to search for a usable quill and an inkwell.

"It'll be one silver for a room." He had a gravelly tobacco worn voice that reminded Sophie dimly of her father. The sudden memory lightened her taxed mind briefly, and when she signed the log book, accepted her room key, and followed him upstairs, him carrying her bags politely, she felt a little better.

"I'd like a bath, if you don't mind. Would you be able to draw one?" She asked him tiredly, timidly.

"Not a problem dear, you're our only other guest tonight. I'll have Mariah come up after you've had a chance to settle. Supper is already made, if you're interested?"

His well rounded speech surprised her slightly, and she paused a moment before replying that she would indeed like supper. He nodded slightly, and soon stopped in front of her room, waiting for her to open the door.

After a slight battle with the key hole, she managed to open the door, and stepped inside a neat room, with a small four poster bed, a desk, a fireplace, and a sitting chair.

"I'll bring the tub up in a ticket."

The door shut quietly behind him, and Sophie found herself alone, in a room now bathed in white moonlight that shone through the single window. A single gas lamp lit one side of the room, near the bed, and she walked over to it, lugging her bags across the floor with her. Poking the bed gingerly with one finger, it felt firm and the comforter soft. Goose feathers; a small part of her sighed in anticipation.

She sat herself down, back straight and feet planted on the floor, her head turned to look out the window. Her mind was not on the view of the building across the street, or the star flecked sky, but within herself, her eyes glazed in tell-tale pensiveness.

What did this mean, this escape? Edward let her go so easily, disregarding that he had taken something that was never meant for him. Where would she go?

Home. Is that where she should return? She didn't know if she would be able to contain her turmoil from her family, and put on a good face. She was horrible at deception; her emotions were always written plain to see on her face.

But where else would she go? She knew no other place besides Market Chipping, or the Waste, and she had no intention of becoming the next Witch of the Waste, cursed to roam the barren land until her nuptials arrived.

"I'll go see Calcifer," she decided after a few more moments of introspection. "At least he knows, and so I can talk to him…and then I'll figure out what to do from there."

Decision made, she felt the tensions in her shoulders ease slightly, although her stomach still cringed slightly in anticipation of returning to the castle.

A knock on the door made her jump slightly up from her bed, and she stood up fully, crossing the room to open the door. Two men bustled in, carrying a wooden tub and a sheet, with a matronly old woman following them with two steaming buckets of hot water. Sophie fidgeted slightly by her bed as the men placed the sheet in the tub-to guard from splinters-and the woman, who introduced herself as Mariah, filled the tub with her buckets.

After several trips made by Mariah, who refused Sophie's help and ignored any further placation, the bath was filled and Sophie was once again alone in her room.

She made sure the door was securely locked before stripping out of her travel-soiled clothes, and stepped into the steaming water. The hot water felt heavenly to her aching muscles, and immediately turned her skin a blushing pink.

Sophie sat in the tub until the water grew an uncomfortable lukewarm, and then she scrubbed herself down with the coarse, but pleasant smelling soap that had been provided for her. Dirt eradicated, she stepped out of the tub, and rubbed herself down with a terry-cloth towel, dressed in a night gown, and braided her hair. The bath had fatigued her, and she was no longer hungry enough to delay rest any longer.

She slipped into her bed, and fell into a dreamless sleep, exhaustion pulling her under.

* * *

The next morning Sophie woke up refreshed and rejuvenated, a determination settling in. She had breakfast sent up, a simple fare of bread, cheese, and fruit, as well as some honey. The bath was emptied and taken away, and for the most part she was left alone.

Laying on her bed, she only had her undergarments on as she lifted up her chemise, and spread a dollop of honey over her stomach, directly above where she estimated her inner ache was. Then, with a hand hovering over the glazed skin, she murmured a few words learned from Mrs. Fairfax, and the honey began to glow a warm yellow, like sunlight. It grew brighter and brighter, soon almost as if there were a mini sun in the room, until Sophie ended incantation, where it went out.

Sitting up, she pressed her stomach slightly, and was relieved to feel that all aches had gone away. She appreciated Mrs. Fairfax's adamant desire for her to learn healing magic, at that moment, and wiped off the honey with her used towel before getting dressed.

Everything packed, she whispered a few jumbled and fervent words over her bags, and when she secured them to her back they were lighter than a feather, easy enough to carry.

Feeling cheered and ready to go, she went downstairs and paid the innkeeper a few extra coppers for his kindness, and made her way onto the road. He had told her at her request, while bringing her breakfast, that the next town over intersected a carriage route, and she could easily pay her way to Market Chipping.

The morning air, as it greeted her face outside the inn, was crisp and cool, but the sun was hot and shining, and soon made her sweat as she walked stoutly down the dirt road in the direction of the carriage town.

"I'll be home soon," she said with a smile. "Home."

* * *

She'd found the town easily enough, after a good two hour walk that had her packs sticking to her sweaty back and her calves aching slightly. From there, she'd only had to wait an hour or so until the next public carriage was due to arrive.

When the rattling black room on wheels clattered into town, she was able to bargain her passage to Market Chipping for a silver and a smile, and joined two other passengers inside while the driver secured her bags to the roof where there was free space.

The carriage passed through three other towns, traveling well into the evening with no further passengers, and only one drop off. Sophie spent most of her trip with an elderly woman who was content to snooze against the carriage window, and another person who was so wrapped up in a cloak, Sophie couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman even. Either way, neither were interested in conversation which was just fine by Sophie. The silence grew oppressive after a while though, and Sophie decided to ignore it by napping.

A loud rap on the carriage door and a muffled "Market Chipping, miss," woke Sophie from her fourth nap. Rubbing a slender hand over sleep crusted eyes, she yawned, and stepped out of the carriage into a cool night. Breathing in deeply, Sophie smiled, swamped with familiar and nostalgic smells of home. She'd arrived just outside the town's gates, a good place to arrive in without being noticed. Accepting her bags from the driver, she watched the carriage bounce away down the road before turning to face the town and step through the gates into the quiet streets.

* * *

It was an easy and well-known path that Sophie's feet followed as she made her way to the flower shop. The lights in the shop were, unsurprisingly, out, and a closed sign hung dejectedly from the door. Peeking in through the window, Sophie saw that the shop was dusty and neglected, full of dead flowers and detritus. The sight tore at her heart, and she knew the shop's condition was entirely her own fault. She silently promised it that she'd clean it up, and it'd be as good as new in no time. Making her way to the castle door, she swallowed, and knocked on the door before she could scare herself away.

Waiting a moment, she heard the latch make a small click, and she turned the knob, pushing the door open. Warmth surrounded her, and she basked in it, feeling Calcifer's presence acutely, and then Michael's, and lastly (most disturbingly) Howl's, (which was barely noticeable). She stepped into the room, appreciating the worn dinner/work table with the tablecloth nearly falling off, the cluttered work bench, the sink and the stove, the worn copper tea kettle, and most of all, the glow in the hearth that waved at her in greeting.

"_Sophie_," he breathed. "You're here! How did you escape? What happened?"

Sophie sat in the chair that was placed next to the fire, and sank down, after dropping her bags near the table. She leaned forward, propping her head on her hands and her elbows on her knees, before relating to Calcifer her past couple of days (omitting certain details of the morning she woke up in Edward's bed). Calcifer listened seriously, silently, and huffed a few times when she finished her story, and speculated on Edward's possible reasons behind her freedom. They talked on it briefly, but stopped soon, Calcifer noticing how she cringed every time Edward was referred to.

With a sigh, she slumped back in the chair, rubbing her head tiredly. Calcifer flickered towards her comfortingly, and the flickers of light on her face warmed her nicely.

As Calcifer sunk down into his hearth, and pulled a few more logs towards him to burn on, Sophie turned her gaze to him again.

"Have you seen Howl?" she softly let out, her voice barely audible over Calcifer's crackling wood. He looked at her, and shook his head.

"I haven't seen him for weeks. He had left one night when I was gone in another fireplace, and I haven't heard from him since."

Sophie nodded, morose.

"And Michael? Have you seen him, or any of my sisters?"

"Yea, I saw Michael. He's been in and out, trying to keep the place together and work on his apprenticeship despite the…circumstances. Your sisters come in every now and then and ask if you've been seen. Especially when they got those invitations," Calcifer chuckled. "They were madder than a drunken rhinoceros."

Sophie stilled at the mention of the invitations, and Calcifer coughed apologetically. She waved her hand away, as if to dispel the awkward air, and slumped into her hands again.

"I suppose I'll have to see them sooner than later; though I can't say I'm happy to face Fanny. God, she's going to punt me into the next universe."

Calcifer shrugged. "It'll have to be done. They've missed you, and I'm sure you them."

He paused.

"So, what are we going to do? You can't really marry Edward…the entire set up is obviously to get at Howl, so we've until the wedding to plan your…our way out of this."

She nodded and raked her hands into her plaited locks again, frustrated.

"I don't know Cal, it's just so hard to think right now. Maybe I'll go home first, and see you tomorrow. One night shouldn't hurt."

"You're right. You could stay here if you like, no one else is..." He trailed off, glancing hurriedly at the castle door. Sophie quickly followed his gaze, and watched with mute horror as the dial's color wheel spun around as if possessed, until it landed on black.

"Sophie, it's Howl!"

Blood drained from her face; she couldn't face Howl now! She couldn't deal with a heart-breaking and ultimately angry confrontation at the moment; her tired brain was faltering from her travels already, and she wouldn't be able to maintain the indifferent façade needed. Frantically, she jumped up from the chair, knocking it over, and looked from side to side, her mind fruitlessly turning over possible escape plans.

"Sophie why don't you just stay…"

"No!" She interrupted.

"But..!"

"Shut it! This whole thing is your fault, so just shut it!" she hissed, and waved her hands about her head in frightened exasperation.

Her time was running out, and the door banged open. Adrenaline rushing through her limbs, she turned around in a quick circle, before throwing herself under the table, and hiding behind the drooping tablecloth. She had a good view of Calcifer and the fallen chair, and she pointedly ignored his perturbed, and funnily enough, pursed expression.

"CAAAAAL-suh-fuuuuurrr. Where has…have…has you BEEN?"

Sophie heard boots make their way over towards the fireplace in deafening, irregular thumps, and she trembled. Calcifer merely looked annoyed.

"You stupid ass, I've been here the whole time. It's you whose been missing, and as I see now, traipsing about Wales and getting stinking drunk."

Howl seemed to ignore him, continuing in a piteous voice.

"You wooden abandon me too hey Cal? You would stay, stood way, see…" Howl trailed off in a drunken giggle, and stumbled over the fallen chair, falling in a heap of mud caked robes and stringy blonde hair.

"Yea yea."

Sophie froze where she crouched, for if Howl turned his head to the right, he would have a full view of her hiding spot. Thankfully, Calcifer's next words drew Howl's attention, and the smashed wizard took to righting the chair (it merely evaded his grasp), as he faced the fire.

"Go get a bath, I'm warming up the water. You stupid drunk, you had us all worried."

"I bet…" His glazed gaze reached up to the cobwebbed ceiling. "I b-bet that _she_ didn't durry…not dorried t'all." He turned abruptly, his hands banging down on the hearth as he stuck his face up close to Calcifer's.

"Hey! Back off, you'll get burned you idiot!"

"Calcifer. Would you like my heart?" The words seemed completely sober, and they took Calcifer and Sophie aback.

Howl opened his mouth to continue, but Calcifer recovered and cut him off.

"Go upstairs and bathe you pathetic wizard, you smell."

"Shmelly nellyy. Ulright guv'nah, off we go!" Tripping over his own feet, Howl finally made his way to the alcove where the bathroom lay, Sophie watching him frozen, though her eyes roved his body.

She was about to crawl out from under the table, when Howl turned around and waved at Calcifer.

"Oi, Calcifer. You sneaky little femon, you avoided the ques…kees…what I asked. My heart?"

Calcifer sighed. "Don't be stupid. You know we both don't want that."

Howl shrugged, and the motion nearly toppled him over again. "Alrighty. I'll jus' go get anuther femon." And with that he trudged through the door into the stairwell, giggling every few seconds and spitting out random curses when he tripped.

Sophie stayed under the table until she heard the bathroom door slam firmly shut. She crawled out backwards, catching her boot on her bag straps, and falling over. Calcifer stared down at her from over the stone, and shook his flaming head.

"Pathetic, the lot of you."

Sophie merely sighed, and rubbed her head for the hundredth time that night. She pulled herself into a sitting position, and hurriedly worked to undo herself from the strap.

"Cal, I'll see you in the morning."

"Sophie, you might as well stay. A drunk Howl is the best Howl to pop in on after running away with another man."

"Calcifer, you can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

She sighed, and didn't reply. It wasn't like he could stop her. Finally freeing herself from her bag, she stood up, and swung the pack over her shoulder, before walking to the door.

However, when she got there, the door handle was stuck, and stubbornly fixed. Livid, Sophie whirled around and glared fiercely at the fire.

"Whoa there Sophie, if looks could kill you would've just murdered your most treasured friend in the world."

She scoffed, and pointed threateningly at him.

"Calcifer, you open this door. Right. Now. Or I swear upon the King's head that I will really and truly murder you." She hissed out the words, uncomfortably aware that Howl was a door away from seeing or hearing her.

"No."

"Do it."

"No, Sophie."

"God damn it Calcifer!"

"Whoa there…where's the Sophie I know and love?"

"Calcifer, do you really think I came out of this hectic mess you brought upon us the same?!"

That cowed the demon, and Sophie almost felt guilty and tempted to apologize.

"Sorry Sophie…you know that I…that I would never have wanted this for you, or Howl…"

"I know," she sighed. "So open the door."

"Sorry, but no."

"CALCIFER!!!" She finally screeched, beyond her limit.

A second later, she clapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes widened in horror. Calcifer merely shrugged at her, looking smug and wary at the same time, and they both watched as a loud, incoherent call came out of the bathroom.

She raced to the castle door, and jiggled the handle, willing it to open. When it seemed Calcifer's magic easily withheld against her own, she turned to race into the flower shop, and escape through the door there.

When she turned around though, she was caught in an intense, open stare as Howl stood, half leaning against the open doorframe, and looked at her like she was an apparition.

"_Sophie?"_

She cringed at the obvious longing, pain, and incredulity in that one word. He took one stumbled step towards her, clad only in a towel, and then stopped, a hand unconsciously raking through freshly washed hair. It would've been comical, if the situation wasn't so serious.

Tears welled up in her eyes, until she stubbornly shook them off. Howl started towards her again, and she edged away towards the flower shop entrance, hoping to make another escape attempt before it was too late. Not that it wasn't too late, already…

"Sophie…is it you?"

She swallowed, and shook her head.

"A hallu…hallucin…ghost again then," he murmured, turning words clumsily over in his mouth. Sophie clenched her jaw, drawn to his rumbling voice, despite it being discordant and faltering. He continued to draw closer, and Sophie had to constantly look behind her to avoid tripping over various piles of scattered books and miscellaneous.

"Wait, don't go…s-stay…"

Sophie shook her head furiously, unable to speak, and then slipped on an errant saucer that lay innocently behind her. She fell on her rump loudly, and Howl kneeled down in front of her, taking advantage of her vulnerable position, his drunken gaze raking her face, tears filling up his eyes and turning them into glistening emeralds. Stuck, Sophie watched helplessly as his elegant hands reached forward to cup her face, gently pressing against her skin.

Suddenly, Howl drew her forward, and clutched her to him, sobbing.

"Oh Sophie, my Sophie! My dear…my dearest…"

Sophie shuddered against him, and surrendered, leaning into him. She could only hope that he was drunken enough that this would only be a dream to him the next morning, although she half-hoped he'd never forget.

His hands stroked her face, her hair, her neck, and he showered sloppy kisses all over her face. Tears streamed down his face, and mingled with Sophie's own that had begun to fall.

"Howl…" she rasped out, choking on her words, giving fully in and reaching up with her own hands to clutch his soft, blonde hair. His face fell into her neck as he tucked her into him, his mouth nuzzling her collarbone and crook of her neck. She brought his face back up to her own, and crashed her lips to his, moving desperately against him as if she'd never see him again. Indeed, it was unlikely that they'd have a moment like this for a long time.

His breaths came out in frantic gasps as he tried to take in all of her, his own mouth surging against hers, his eyebrows creased in anguish and relief as he took Sophie in.

As they clung desperately, tiredly together, Calcifer merely looked on with pretend exasperation.

"Tch. Silly humans."

But he didn't hide his smile, and hoped that Howl wasn't drunk enough to forget this night. They had precious little good memories to stand against the strife that was sure to come.

* * *

***Note***

**:D**

**HAHAHA.**

**Uhm. What did I want to say. Oh yes.**

**Thank you everyone for you reviews!! I read, loved, and saved them ALL, and also thank you to everyone who favorite'd and alert'd me/this story! To the Anonymous reviewers, and reviewers who disabled their messaging (grrr), thank you soso much for reviewing, and I really enjoy each and every one!**

**Also, CONGRATULATIONS TO NEKOXION9 who was the 200th reviewer (I'm pretty sure)! You don't have messaging. ): Sooo I shall tell you here that you are entitled to a oneshot of your choice! A killing of Edward, a lemon, a detailed killing of Edward....whatever you like. (:**

**Guys, if there are any mistakes, puhpuhplease feel free to tell me so I can adjust and not look stupid in front of the FF community. (:  
**

**UNTIL NEXT TIME.  
**

**Oh, and please review! REVIEW EW EW EW. :D  
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	21. Chapter 21

***A/N* **

**Just to clarify. I AM NOT ABANDONING THIS STORY. I JUST TAKE AN EFFIN LONG TIME TO UPDATE 'CAUSE I SUCK.**  
**And it took so long 'cause I really wanted to make it longer but I kept getting sidetracked so now I am saying FFFFF IT POSTING ALREADY.  
Rest of author's note at end.**

**OH. I didn't get all the more recent anon reviewers in the a/n note at the end, so THIS IS FOR YOU. THANK YOU SO EFFIN MUCH I SAVE EVERYTHING IN MY EMAIL AND I LOVE EVERY WORD. EVERY WORD YOU WRITE. **

_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 21: In Which There is the Calm**

Sophie clutched Howl, her fingers entwining with his still soapy hair, as they both sobbed against each other rather pathetically. Howl was beginning to calm down, his tears and inebriated state making him drowsy, as well as Sophie's smell and taste and warmth surrounding him. Sophie, however, was nearly choking on her own tears, as the contact with Howl broke her lousy spell with little fanfare, and she was rushed with all the love and longing that had been suppressed for so long, the emotions and memories overwhelming her.

Calcifer pointedly looked away with an air of awkward discomfort.

After a moment of hysterical hiccuping, Sophie managed to restrain herself enough to pull out of Howl's grasp, and look at him, finally _look _at him. He reluctantly gave way, and she raked over his disheveled features. His glassy green eyes were shiny with tears, and slightly unfocused, and his hair was beginning to dry in odd angles from not being washed properly, and then being combed with Sophie's desperate fingers.

He lifted a hand from where it lay curled at her waist, and traced her eyebrow, her cheekbone, her lips, as she traced his face with her eyes.

"I must be dreaming," he croaked out, murmuring and slurring his words. "You can't be real."

His hand fell to his side.

Sophie only looked at him sadly, a quivering frown replacing the slight smile that had crept on her face during her reintroduction with Howl. Oh how she wished, how hard she wished to tell him everything!

She settled for pulling him close, and laying her head against his shoulder, his heartbeat a close thump near her ear. His arms circled around her, tightly, and he sighed into her hair.

"If this were a dream," Howl mumbled. "Now would be a right good time... to...have..."

"Have what, Howl?"

"Oh you...coy (yawn) thing, (yawn) you know it very well."

He began to fall forward, heavily weighing down onto her in a sleepy slump.

Sighing wearily, Sophie began to stand up, tugging on Howl to come up with her as she prepared to end her happy reunion.

"Let's get you to bed."

"Let's get _us _to bed."

He followed up willingly, albeit slowly, while Sophie felt slightly taken aback at his forwardness. Another time, she might have eagerly followed along. Another time, she promised herself.

Howl adjusted his towel with a hand, and let Sophie support him into the stairwell, up the stairs, and into his room, all the while watching a blurry Sophie huff and puff unawares out of the corner of his eye.

She was hyper aware his solid weight pressed against her side, his gangly form looming over her petite one. His skin pressed against the thin layer of cloth that was her dress, his heat seeping and mingling with her own. His every step, every swing of his long and unkempt hair, the way his fingers would randomly clench and unclench around her arm sent sparks racing from her toes to the tips of her ginger hair.

Gulping, Sophie focused her attention to the top of the stairwell, a singular spot in the grimy woodwork, until they made it to Howl's door. Unceremoniously, she wrenched open the door and pushed Howl inside, closing the door in his slightly dazed face.

"Sophie?"

She pressed herself against the door.

"Go get dressed, I'll wait out here," she said, trying to hide the tremble in her lie.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

She waited only a moment, hearing fumbling and half-hearted mumbled cursing following heavy thumps, before turning on her heel and racing down the stairs, where she ran to her pack and swung it up on her shoulder.

"So-?"

"Calcifer." She turned on him, a determined look on her face. "I was not here tonight. Howl must _never_ know, or Edward will...will kill everyone."

Ignoring the shocked look on Calcifer's face, as Sophie had not imparted Edward's threats to him, she stalked forward and stuck a finger in front of his glowing face.

"You will keep your mouth shut, you will make sure Howl doesn't do anything stupid, and you will come visit me in my room's fireplace tomorrow morning. Got it?"

Calcifer nodded meekly.

"Good."

She turned, and ran to the now unlocked door, wrenching it open without a glance backwards after twirling the knob to the colored destination. She didn't notice Calcifer staring after her morosely, a whispered apology left in the air to be heard by no one.

Night had fully fallen when Sophie stepped out onto clean cobbled streets, the mansions that arose in intervals against the dark blue sky looming in the distance. Before she turned to leave, she looked up at the castle, and raised her hand, palm open, to the light that came from Howl's room. _Forget forget __forget, it was all a dream, a dream, a dream. Forget forget forget. It was a dream, a dream a dream. Forgetforgetforget._

A warmth tingled momentarily from her wrist to her fingertips, dissipating quickly. Satisfied, she left.

Her hurried footsteps echoed in the darkness, and she strained her eyes for the winking lights of her step-mother's mansion.

The day's travels were taking their toll, and she could feel her pack unmercifully digging into her shoulder, so as she turned onto her home's drive, she could only let out a sigh of relief while she made her way to the back, intending to sneak into her room. The gardens were well tended, and few trees blocked the moonlight that guided her to the side of the house that hosted the terrace that led into her room. Staring up at it speculatively, she figured the only way up was by climbing the trellis. She really had no energy to levitate herself, or anything else for that matter. With a sigh, she secured her pack to her and struggled her way up the side of the house, collapsing onto the terrace red-faced and irritable after a few minutes of struggling with footing and clingy ivy.

The terrace doors were locked, and after twenty strained minutes with a hair pin, they swung open, and Sophie let the familiar smells of home waft over her.

She kicked off her shoes, and shoved them in a corner with her pack, shedding off her dress and tossing it along too. The air was nippy, as the terrace doors let in the autumn air, but it didn't matter, for in a matter of moments, she was underneath the thick (and slightly dusty) quilts of her bed, drifting off into blissful sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Sophie woke up with a start, her eyes snapping up to greet the ceiling of her room. Her body tensed for a moment, unsure of where she was, but then relaxed as the familiar scene registered in her mind. The sun was lingering low on the walls of her room, indicating that it was late morning, and she sat up in bed, stretching out one arm while the other rose to her face, her hand rubbing a sleepy eye.

"About time you got up."

Sophie let out a squeak, and clutched her covers to her chest, looking around frantically for the source of the voice.

Her eyes landed on the fireplace, finally, and she saw Calcifer wave cheekily.

"Calcifer! I'm not even dressed yet!"

"Oh like it matters."

Sophie huffed.

"You did tell me to come this morning," he said petulantly.

Sighing, Sophie rubbed her forehead, and made Calcifer close his eyes as she went and grabbed a dressing robe from out of her closet, hastily pulling it on as she went to sit in front of the fireplace.

"So." Sophie bit her lip.

"So."

"Well. We need to stop Edward before the wedding right? And we only have a few weeks, minus the one where he comes back."

Calcifer nodded, and tapped the hearth with a firey finger.

"And Howl's not helping. You should've seen him this morning..."

Sophie narrowed her eyes.

"What do you mean."

"Well, he was nursing a pretty bad hangover, and didn't look great, not that this is anything new. And, Sophie, I think he's going to try and find another demon to take out his heart..."

"...What!"

"Well, remember last night how he asked me to take his heart? I didn't think he was serious, but this morning, after banging about the castle, he left muttering about hearts and contracts."

Sophie paled.

"Calcifer, no! He just got out of a contract with you, I _cannot_ deal with another Witch of the Waste to get his heart back. Why didn't you say anything to him?"

Calcifer shrugged.

"I didn't get much time to put a word in."

Rubbing her forehead, Sophie sighed.

"He needs to snap out of this. If Edward tries to kill him...and he's vulnerable like this..."

"If he knew you were here-"

"No! Then he'll know I was there last night and he won't believe I...love Edward, and it'll all be ruined."

"The way I see it, it looks like it'll all be ruined whatever we do," Calcifer grumbled half-heartedly.

"Cal! We have to find a way to defeat him before he takes all your power and kills you, or hurts anyone else!"

"...I don't know Sophie. This guy seems impervious to everything; he always has a plan."

"We need help." Sophie bit her lip again, and tapped her chin. What would someone do under attack? They would protect themselves, ward themselves, guard themselves... "Cal! Do you have any sorcerer friends? Maybe some of those who you went to for help...but no one evil and I guess I'll have to tell Mrs. Fairfax everything...but we need everyone we've got to ward my family and I need to know everything peculiar about Edward you know and we'll need a battle plan."

Sophie took a deep breath to continue her rant, but Calcifer interrupted her immediately.

"That all sounds good and everything, but I've got to go, Howl just came back and I want to check on him. We'll continue later?"

Deflated, Sophie nodded. "Wait Cal, come back and tell me if he's okay?"

Calcifer nodded and gave her a small smile.

"Of course. I'll be right back." And with a pop, he was gone.

Sophie let out a big puff air exasperatedly, and flopped backwards, hitting the floor with a bang.

"Ow..."

"What was that noise!" "It was coming from Sophie's room...!" "Sophie's room!"

Sophie froze, and her door banged open with a flurry of skirts and gesticulating arms.

"SOPHIE!"

Sheepishly, she sat up and waved at her furious looking sisters, before they ran in and tackled her back onto the floor.

"...Ow..."

* * *

_Two weeks Later_

Despite the colder temperatures, the fans in the bake shop spun continuously. Scrunching her nose, Sophie couldn't blame the owner for keeping them on, as the combined heat of the massive amount of customers, as well as the heater made the shop stuffy and overwhelming.

She watched Martha frantically working the cash register as she helped to pack orders, as the other girls this shift were taking breaks from the rush. Martha refused Sophie's help at first, but Sophie wouldn't hear it and shouldered her way in behind the counter.

The result wasn't as rewarding, as more customers seemed to come in, and other customers from a few minutes before came back with another set of random orders.

It was chaos.

The reunion between the sisters two weeks ago was full of tears, hugs, and prying questions, in which Sophie to the best of her ability lied with a happy smile. Fanny was away on a business trip with her husband, and so the girls took their time to catch up. Martha was excited for her wedding with Michael, which was being held a week before Sophie's, and Lettie was coaxed into reluctantly spilling about her growing affair with the Wizard Suliman.

No one brought up Howl.

Calcifer popped back into Sophie's room in the middle of a juicy story that Lettie was finally getting into, and with a discreet and feebly made thumbs up, he told her that Howl was okay. Lettie and Martha immediately brought him into the conversation, making Calcifer feel distinctly uncomfortable, before he was apparently being called by Howl and had to leave.

After he left, Lettie and Martha just looked at Sophie, before quietly asking her about Howl, and what had happened. With a clenched jaw, Sophie persisted in her explanation that she and Howl were merely friends, and didn't get a long as great as everyone had thought they did. Then, to distract them, Sophie forced herself to make up creative stories about her time in Edward's mansion she'd stayed in, and Lettie and Martha were placated.

Still, over the two weeks, Sophie would catch Lettie giving her penetrating looks, and Martha would fuss over her, and sometimes Sophie would be walking about their home, and hear the two of them in a room whispering heatedly with each other.

She taped down the box on a cake, and put it on the counter to be picked up, the drone of the crowd and Martha's high pitched voice a pleasant background noise in her head.

Between the bake shop, her sisters, two weddings being planned, and pretending to be a happy bride-to-be, Sophie met with Calcifer at night, where the brainstormed on plans, and Calcifer updated Sophie about Howl. Sophie wasn't ready to see him yet, but she admitted that if she didn't soon, they could very well lose him to madness. Infuriating man.

They'd already contacted about a dozen minor sorcerers who were colleagues of Howl and Calcifer, as well as Mrs. Fairfax and the Wizard Suliman. Sophie had met with Suliman and Mrs. Fairfax in person, and while she did not tell them the whole story (could not tell them, as her throat immediately closed up when she tried), she told them that she needed their help to protect her family. They gave her tokens that could summon them, and Suliman enlisted the help of a few royal magicians.

Their army was slowly building.

Martha's wedding was at the end of the week, and Edward would be arriving the day before. Sophie had managed to hold down her panic, but as the days passed and the weddings loomed closer, it was harder to remain a facade of calm.

With a sigh, she wiped her hands on her apron, and proceeded to take out a small box for eclairs, and a bag of cookies.

The end of the day was the best time at the bakeshop, when all that was left of the customers were an elderly couple who came everyday faithfully and a few quiet tea drinkers. The girls started to clean the pastry strewn floors and the chefs wiped down the kitchen counters and put the dough out to rise. The sun was half-set and the whole place was aglow.

Sophie sighed gratefully, and shot an amused glance at Martha, who was sitting in an unladylike slump in a chair, moaning about her poor feet. Taking off the simple white hair scarf and the matching apron, Sophie went to the back to hang them up, and retrieve her purse. Martha had to stay a bit longer to talk with the owners about her wedding cake, and Sophie wanted to stop by the general store to pick up some sewing needles. She couldn't find any of hers, anywhere.

Waving to Martha and calling out a goodbye, Sophie buttoned up her coat, and tugged her hair out from where it was caught under its collar, before opening the bake shop's door and stepping out into the chilly air, a bell twinkling behind her as the door shut.

The trip to the general store was uneventful, and the only exciting thing was getting to see the owner's cat and her new litter of kittens. She was persuaded to adopt one, and she promised the owner to come back the next day and pick one out.

Her paper bag holding the packet of needles was carefully folded and placed into her coat pocket as she walked towards Michael and Martha's apartment, where she was staying while she helped out at the bakery. On her way, she passed the old flower shop, and as she allowed herself a quick glance, she saw that the lights were on and the door was open. From across the street, she could see that it was cleaned, and flowers were being set up in buckets all over the floor. Sophie twinged with curiosity, and she shuffled indecisively in place, having an inward debate whether or not to risk going over to look. After a few seconds of vicious inner yelling, she decided that her visit was due anyway, and this was the perfect opportunity to pop in. In fact, she would be an idiot not to.

Taking a deep breath, she walked across the street, and walked up the steps to the shop doors, where they were open and flooding light out. Squinting slightly, she peered in and let out a timid hello. Someone was bent over a tub of water, and at her voice, they straightened up and turned around, revealing themselves.

"Sophie! Hello!"

* * *

She smiled sheepishly at Michael, who was wearing a green florist apron over his tunic and breeches. Out of its pockets peeked a few twigs of rowan, a daisy, and small spell books, as well as a pair of clippers.

"Hello Michael, how have you been?" Sophie stepped over a pile of dried dead flowers that blocked the doorway, lifting her skirts, as she went to greet him.

"I've been well, a bit stretched, what with the wedding, and my...apprenticeship, and I've decided to reopen the flowershop." He grinned. "A little extra money won't hurt you know!"

"Don't overwork yourself!" Sophie admonished him, inwardly feeling guilty as she knew Howl's erratic and worrisome behavior was causing a few sleepless nights for Michael.

"Ah well, you know, you could always come and work here again!"

Sophie blanched, and Michael, noticing her pause turned red and laughed nervously.

"Ah, that is, you don't have to you know, it's perfectly fine, and you'll be married soon too..."

"Oh it's fine Michael." Sophie bit her lip. It wouldn't hurt to stay and work for a little bit. If things went according to plan, her faux marriage would fall to pieces (bringing Atkin down with it), so why not?

"As a matter of fact," she continued. "I have some free time, so I could—."

Her eyes had wandered as she spoke, drifting to the drape covered entrance to the castle, a doorway in which Howl was leaning with a smoldering glare on his face. The minute she spotted him, her words had died on her tongue, and she was frozen, riveted in place under his gaze.

Michael stepped forward towards her, puzzled by her sudden silence, before following her gaze to where it was fixed on Howl.

"Howl! You're finally back! Where have you been, I was worried that you'd miss the month mark again to maintain the castle! And," he continued slightly miffed. "You still have to look at that spell I told you had a misstep in the Gorgon Anthology."

Howl ignored Michael, giving him a dismissive wave. Huffing, Michael threw his hands up in the air, and sidled past Howl to disappear into the castle.

"Hello Sophie. When did you get back?"

_Two weeks ago _she thought, a blush rising in her cheeks as she thought of their reunion that only she knew was real. _But if my spell worked, you won't know it._

"Only a little bit ago, I missed everyone." _I missed you._

"Ah, did you? Well, it's so nice to see you. I suppose this means your "never want to see you again" phase is over?"

"Howl, I..." Sophie paused, shame rising as red flush, as she tried to think of how to convey her apology. He waited for her to continue, not moving towards her, but merely pinning her in place with his eyes.

She swallowed. "I'm so sorry. I just, I felt...we were going to a place I didn't want to because we're friends and I didn't know how to say it and then I met At..Edward and," she took a breath, noting the slight glint of pain and annoyance in his eyes. "It doesn't matter, though. I'm so sorry Howl. I understand if you can never forgive me."

Her heartstrings tugged painfully, as she hoped to God that Howl would forgive her at some point.

All of a sudden, Howl started laughing. Big, hearty, good-natured guffaws.

Sophie stared at him, confused.

He stopped gradually, and gave her a bright, lady-killer smile.

"Oh Sophie, silly girl, you don't change at all."

He then turned, and breezed back into the castle, leaving behind a very stumped ginger.

* * *

***A/N***

**So, yea. Sorry for the delay. I'm tired and colllege started and I NEED FRIENDS AND MY FRIENDS STILL HERE ARE BEING BUMS I AM DEPRESSED.  
I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT ELSE I WAS GONNA WRITE.**

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**JADE. D: I was so unhappy to see that you are unreplyable. Thank you for all your reviews, I appreciate them all and all the love and criticism and lengthiness. 3**

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	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

There was a mild thump after Howl disappeared behind the doorway. Even more confused, Sophie cautiously walked over, and stepped up to the threshold to see a sprawled Howl prostrate on the floor.

"Howl?"

"Mmmfin."

It sounded more like a sob to Sophie than anything else.

She sweatdropped, and bent down, patting him on the shoulder.

" D: IT'LL BE OKAY."

**A/N:**

**loljk guys. That was courtesy Jensulli11's review.**

**JUMPMIKEJUMP. YOU ARE THE 300th REVIEWER. ASK ME FOR STUFF. 8D**

**Okay, so I found out that the majority of work done/motivation to do it happens when I'm taking the train to school. A legit train. Not subway/metro. Now that we're clear on the train part, I lugged my laptop all over today to finish this chapter.**

**I ammmm sorry for the delay, I've been adjusting to college, and how I don't get the amount of hugs I used to in high school and friend separation anxiety. Haha. :D BUT ITS GETTING BETTAH.**

**All the reviews and favorites and subscribing have really helped to kick my ass in gear. C:**

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_DISCLAIMER: ALL MAIN CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 22: In Which A Corset Inhibits More Than Health**

_Previously:_

_"Ah, did you? Well, it's so nice to see you. I suppose this means your "never want to see you again" phase is over?"_

_"Howl, I..." Sophie paused, shame rising as red flush, as she tried to think of how to convey her apology. He waited for her to continue, not moving towards her, but merely pinning her in place with his eyes._

_She swallowed. "I'm so sorry. I just, I felt...we were going to a place I didn't want to because we're friends and I didn't know how to say it and then I met At..Edward and," she took a breath, noting the slight glint of pain and annoyance in his eyes. "It doesn't matter, though. I'm so sorry Howl. I understand if you can never forgive me."_

_Her heartstrings tugged painfully, as she hoped to God that Howl would forgive her at some point._

_All of a sudden, Howl started laughing. Big, hearty, good-natured guffaws._

_Sophie stared at him, confused._

_He stopped gradually, and gave her a bright, lady-killer smile._

_"Oh Sophie, silly girl, you don't change at all."_

_He then turned, and breezed back into the castle, leaving behind a very stumped ginger._

* * *

As soon as Howl disappeared, Michael reemerged with a scowl on his face. He went over and took Sophie by the arm, gently tugging to get her moving. Slightly numbed by the reunion, Sophie allowed herself to be directed, not entirely aware of her surroundings. He sat her down in the a chair by the castle's dining table, and haphazardly pushed the junk off of the table's surface to the side.

Howl's reaction was so odd. She hadn't seen him like that in a while, not since he was still under the demon's contract...

Her breath caught as she considered the possibility that Howl might have initiated another contract with a demon, and what organ he may have bartered for it...

"Want some tea, Sophie?"

Michael's voice shook her out of her morbid realization, and she turned to face him.

"Uhm, if you don't mind, please."

He set the kettle above a fire he'd just lit, as the hearth was sans Calcifer, and then sat down across from Sophie, settling his chin in his hands exasperatedly.

"Howl 'disappeared' again just now. His doorway to Wales doesn't go to just Wales anymore; I tried getting through it one day, and it took me hours to sort my way out," he said bluntly.

Sophie sighed. There wasn't much she could say to that.

"Can you talk to him Soph, just to get things all in the clear?" Michael looked so worn, his eyes pleading, and it made Sophie feel even guiltier.

Before she could try to think about it, Sophie nodded her head. "Sure, next time I see him."

Michael nodded, slumping a little into his chair.

"Anyway, I've been trying to re-open the flower shop like I said, so that at least we won't have to pay for the flower arrangements. I've been learning this spell that arranges flowers, and it's not as easy as I thought it would be—oh hold on, there's the kettle."

He stood up and lifted the kettle off its hook with a towel, abruptly silencing it's whistle, pouring the hot water into a tea pot quickly and setting down the kettle, shaking the hot sting out of his hand. Plopping tea bags into the tea pot, he grabbed that and two mugs before settling down in front of Sophie again, placing the tea implements in front of them.

"Still like yours plain?"

Sophie nodded.

"Yea, me too now. Been put off of sweets for a bit, as Martha always brings home things from the bakery," he chuckled fondly.

A quick peek into the teapot and Michael leaned over to pour some of its contents into Sophie's empty cup before sloshing some into his own.

"So, how are things going with...erm...your wedding?"

"Oh...surely you know how hectic these things are..." Sophie bit her lip, momentarily wondering if she should include Michael in her and Calcifer's plans to sabotage her own wedding, but then he'd surely tell Martha, who'd tell Lettie, who'd tell Suliman, who'd then tell her he was somehow part of all this, and somewhere along the line, someone would let something slip in front of someone who especially didn't need to hear it, and then Atkin would find out and it would all be for nothing. Michael was never particularly good with these sorts of situations.

Or would that happen?

Sophie shook her head of her musings, and gave Michael a small smile.

He, in turn, rubbed his neck habitually, and stretched.

"Oh God, I know. Though your fiance has been taking care of most things, as I heard?"

Sophie blushed at that. It was no secret what Atkin's public profession was—an event coordinator (how plain that sounded!)—and so it was a given that he'd take the reins for the arrangements. Still, the fact that she wasn't doing anything, or wasn't allowed to more like, irked her pride.

"Well, I've got my say in some things...such as...my dress _(not actually)..._and...and flowers!" she threw out, staunchly defensing her inadvertently poked pride. Michael just looked at her.

"And...uhm..."

She sighed.

A few seconds past.

"I haven't been able to do anything! It's driving me nuts." She huffed, and sipped her tea indignantly.

"But!" she said, cutting off Michael as he moved to say something. "Atk..Edward is coming this week, in two days in fact, so I intend to have a proper word with him and assert myself as the lady of this wedding! Because it is my wedding, and this sort of thing really only happens once in one's lifetime., and it's supposed to be perfect and about you and the one you love and...and..."

Sophie slumped onto the table, hiding in her arms as an exasperated sob escaped from her tightened throat. The small voice in the back of her mind mused that she was acting like a Howl.

"Err, Sophie?"

At the sound of his voice, she immediately popped out from the cage of her arms and wiped her few tears roughly, plastering on a patented smile.

"Oh Michael I'm sorry, don't mind me, just wedding jitters and stress. I've really had too much time on my hands you know."

She scraped her chair back, and stood up suddenly, brushing down the front of her dress.

"Anyway, it was high time I was getting home, sorry to have imposed on you!"

Sophie turned and made a beeline for the entry to the flower shop. When she unlocked the door to get through, she twisted around suddenly.

"Oh, before I forget, I would love to help in the shop if you need it. I'll come by tomorrow? Okay? Okay. See you then!"

With that, she scurried the door and into the night, leaving behind a bewildered Michael.

What she didn't get to see, was that as soon as she left, a very primped looking Howl came clattering down the stairs, muttering something about forgetting his favorite rugby jacket before clouting his apprentice in the back of the head and disappearing through the castle door. Michael was left sitting by himself, confusedly rubbing his sore head.

* * *

The next day, Sophie clocked out of the bakery right after the lunch rush, and set off to the flower shop, tightening her jacket about her against the cold. It was a bright autumn day, though the bright sun did nothing for the chill. Sophie made a small grimace, and tugged her scarf further up her neck. It was a fine, pure cashmere scarf, soft and still with the faint smell of its store's perfume. Sophie dearly missed her old clothes, even the nice ones she bought with Lettie. However, Edward seemed to take a pleasure in "furnishing" his bride-to-be, and the lavish wealth that Sophie wore grudgingly felt like a possessive mark.

When this was all over, Sophie promised to herself, she'd burn every bit gleefully.

The walk to the flower shop was pleasant despite the biting air, and though she had to elbow through a crowd or two of pesky pedestrians, she made it to the flower shop with most of her countenance composed and intact. Tucking a stray strand of hair back beneath her hat, Sophie stepped into the flower shop, the little bell chime announcing her.

Michael was on his hands and knees, with his back to the door, wearing a pair of what seemed to be dragon-hide gloves, and was wrestling what seemed to be a carnivorous vine. As she walked towards him, he took a quick glance backwards, and nodded a hello.

"Ah!" he said, grunting a little as he began to unmercifully jam it into a pot. "I think this was one of your creations! It went a little wild in the yard's garden as you can see, but I think someone might buy it."

_Only a crazy wizard or witch would buy that_, Sophie though skeptically. She walked over and crouched down next to Michael, squinting to get a better look at the plant. A slight pop of recognition graced her, and she realized it was the little plant that she had experimented with feeding types, and it had developed a taste for roasted chicken.

_It's tastes must have made it grow more...wild..._Sophie looked at it with a sigh, and reached out a gloved hand to stroke it down the length of its stem. Michael looked as if he were about to protest, until the plant flopped down docilely, overbalancing Michael as it did.

He sat on his backside, his arms behind him to keep him from falling over, and a look of relief crossed his features.

"Wow, I didn't know it was a touch sensitive plant. I knew some, like the purple roses, would turn pink if you tickled their under petals..."

Sophie shrugged. "I think they changed on what I did to them before..." Like when she was so pleased that she made purple roses, she'd been tickled pink, and had explicitly told the roses so while admiring their petals.

She made a note to herself right then to be more careful talking around potential magical substances.

Hefting herself upward, she extended an arm to Michael, who levered himself up bashfully.

"I can take over the shop for now, if you have some things you need to do?" Sophie slid off her hat, and coat, walking towards the back of the store where the coat rack still stood.

Her words received a bright smile, and Michael set to pulling off his apron and gloves.

"You came at the perfect time Sophie, I was going to drop off a spell in Porthaven for a few of the ship Captains, and then check the wedding venue reservation." It was going to be a seaside wedding, reminiscent of Michael's past as he had no more family there.

He passed by her as she made her way to the counter, and he into the small archway that led out to the castle.

As she pulled on his discarded apron, she heard Michael call out a goodbye as he left through the castle door, seven league boots most likely in hand. Sophie was left in a quiet shop, and was most content at that.

She took her time reuniting with the flowers, some old and some new, reveling in how they seemed to perk up as she greeted each one.

In a corner, her navy rose had grown into a giant bush, and its branches were dotted in coal black buds. She gave that plant a little kiss on one of the buds, having especially missed this flower. The minute her lips left it, the bud slowly unfurled, revealing bluer and bluer petals, dark in the center and getting lighter as it coiled out. Strangely, it had a small, dark red middle before the blue spiraled around. Delighted, Sophie kissed a few others, but none of them unfurled with a red center. Nevertheless, she fussed around the counter looking for shears.

"Now," she said, brandishing the shears. "I fear that if I leave you on your stem, you'll soon grow old and brown. So I'll just cut you off, and keep you close, and you'll live longer with me." Gently handling the stem, she clipped the strange rose and handled it softly with pads of her fingers. On an impulse, she fitted the flower into her hair bun.

Just as she finished placing it, the door jingled open, and a stream of customers came in. Most of them she knew from her childhood, and the rest of the afternoon was spent catching up with and selling autumn flowers to old acquaintances, as well as continuing her abandoned experiments.

* * *

The sun was setting, alighting the shop in an orange blaze, when Sophie decided to close up. Many customers had come in that day, especially when they heard Sophie had returned to man the shop, and it was a great relief when things would slow down, and she could work on her new flowers.

Stretching, she tugged off her apron, and folded it. She stepped behind the counter and knelt down to tuck it away in a drawer, when she heard the bell to the shop door ring.

"Sorry, I'm just closing...up." She squinted against the bright sunlight. "..Howl?"

In came the wizard, bustling off to a flower covered wall to pluck a chrysanthemum from a bunch of its fellows, and out of the door he went again without a word.

Curious, and a little miffed at the outright brush off, she walked at a more sedate pace to the glass paned door to see Howl tucking the flower behind the ear of a young, dark haired girl who seemed to be blushing.

Sophie froze for a second, before realizing she was in plain sight in front of the door, and so abruptly turned back into the shop. Retrieving her coat and hat, she hung the former over her arm and hurried out of the shop into the castle, intending on a quick getaway.

It hurt her heart to see Howl moving on, when she had always hoped that he'd still be there for her when this whole ordeal was finished with. She honestly couldn't, and wouldn't blame him for seeking the attentions of another girl, but it still hurt like the dickens.

She'd made it to the castle door, and had turned the door knob to the orange blob, when she realized she hadn't properly locked up the shop.

"Oh drat."

In a manner bespeaking of her elderly days, Sophie huffed and stomped back up to the shop, pulling her coat on along the way. She sincerely hoped that Howl had gone off gallivanting with his new-found beau far away, and that his little flower shop pit-stop was only a pit-stop.

Holding her hat in her hand, as to not crush the rose in her hair, she trudged back into the shop, peeking around the entry way to see if there was anyone there.

There wasn't.

With a worldly sigh, she locked up the door, turned the sign to "closed", and decided to visit Fanny, and perhaps stay the night.

She would only have this peace for one more day, anyway.

* * *

The next morning she got up before the sun, and headed to Cesari's through the castle. Calcifer gave her a sleepy hello from the grate, and she returned it before tiptoeing out through the flower shop.

When she arrived at the bakeshop, she only stayed long enough to tell Martha that she was going to stay and work at the flower shop from then on. She hadn't realized how much she had missed her flowers until she saw them again, and she was determined to spend as much time with them as possible. She set off with a purposeful air.

While on her way back, she saw flowery aprons displayed in the window of a particular clothes shop. On an impulse, she went inside, and bought a blue one with little white wild flowers embroidered on the edges.

_The shop's aprons are pretty old, big, and ratty now...goodness knows. And besides, this one will match my eyes,_ Sophie reasoned as she clutched her parcel. Why she was reasoning her purchase, she did not bother to think about.

It was still very early when Sophie let herself into the shop, but she could already hear someone tinkering in the yard. Undoing her coat, she put it on the coat rack. Today she'd forgone a hat for the blue rose instead. It sat lightly at the crown of her head, artfully stuck in the mess of a coil that Sophie attempted to wind her hair into.

Pulling the apron out of its brown wrappings, she looped it over her head, and tied it around her waist as she walked into the castle, curious as to who was up and at it in the castle yard.

Her heart dropped to her stomach for a second when she saw a broad-shouldered figure kneeling in the mud, but it was only Michael. Sophie called out a hello, and waved, only leaving when Michael had yelled out a cheerful good morning, before yelping as he slipped in slime.

Back in the shop, Sophie hauled the tub up and out of its dusty corner. It had a load of junk piled into it, to keep it from floating, and once all of it was dumped out, Sophie had it hovering docilely behind her.

Successfully making it into the castle without bumping corners, she took the tub through the castle door, purple blob showing, and stepped out into the flower field.

The sight that met her was not as beautiful as she remembered. There were still bountiful patches of flowers, but in some places there were giant brown patches where not a bit of flora survived. Frowning, Sophie walked over to one of said patches, shears clicking irritably in one hand.

"Hm," she murmured, leaning over to inspect the dusty earth. "It seems you've been neglected, poor field."

She stepped onto the patch.

"Well, Sophie's back, and I'm going to take right good care of you, no matter what happens!"

Little green sprouts curled up shyly where her boot fell. Sophie smiled with delight.

"That's it, come on! Grow, grow up and thick, like you once did before."

She pointed at the over flowering brush that bordered the dead spot.

"Come on, reach over, fill this spot! Help it regrow!"

A few more shouts of encouragement, and the spot was growing, currently covered with a fuzzy patch of green, with little colored dots that were tiny wildflowers.

Pleased, Sophie trudged over to the next spot, and started again. Her efforts took the better part of the hour, and she began picking flowers later than she'd liked. Hastily bundling what she saw into the tub, it was late in the morning before she bustled back into the castle, her face flushed and her hair hanging about her face in little wisps as she ushered the tub in front of her.

Michael was sitting at his work bench, brown furrowed as he contemplated a particularly difficult spell. Calcifer was talking animatedly about a funny scene he'd seen on one of his outings, and Howl was sitting sleepily at the table, nibbling on bread and cheese.

Sophie stopped with a start when she saw Howl—once the tub got far enough past the doorway—, and blushed furiously. It seemed that Howl had decided to forgo dressing for breakfast, and his current pyjamas lacked a top. Michael looked up from his work, and gave Sophie a cheerful hello, while making not very subtle motions towards Howl. She had rather hoped he'd forget that she promised to talk to Howl, and so she pretended to not understand his exaggerated eye pointing.

Instead, she gave out a general hello to the room's occupants, and hustled off towards the door that led to the shop. As she went through the door, the tub scraping erroneously against the sides, before squeaking through. She could hear Howl murmuring a question to Michael, and Michael's exuberant, "Oh, yes! She's helping out with the shop again! Thank God, because this spell that the Ship Union wants is...," that drifted into silence the farther Sophie walked.

Brandishing her clippers, she set her eyes on the harvested flowers and rolled up her sleeves. Customers were already peeking into the door, and she had no time to waste.

* * *

It was not till the late afternoon that Howl finally slinked into the shop. Sophie had agitatedly waited, wondering whether or not he'd have the inclination to talk to her again. Half of her desperately hoped he wouldn't—the mere sight of him made her uncomfortably girly—and half hoped he would, just so she could try and reestablish their friendship. She wasn't blind. She knew it was in the pits, no matter how odd Howl acted.

A large crowd of customers buying fall wreaths had just left, and Sophie was busy filling out and organizing bulk orders, and she'd just finished outlining the flower arrangements for Martha and Michael's wedding.

She was flushed, tired, and the corset she'd stupidly decided to wear was making it very hard to comfortably slump in her chair.

Howl peeked in through the connecting door, and when he was satisfied that there were no customers, walked in with a waft of perfume. Sophie scrunched her nose at the smell, on principle. Of course, it did smell lovely, though she mused that Howl must be very secure in his own masculinity to be wearing flowery scents. She giggled in her mind.

He walked to the center of the room, peering about at the different flowers on display, before he spoke.

"You've been quite the busy bee, Miss Sophie."

She shrugged. "You know I've always enjoyed horticulture."

"Ah, but you've really outdone yourself this time, and you've been back what, two days?" He leaned in to peer at a plant. "Are those pumpkin—?"

"Berry flowers, yes."

He turned to face her, vague amusement on his face.

"Just like old times."

Sophie blushed. "It's hardly that long ago to be 'old times' ." _Though it's certainly felt like it. _

Howl plucked a berry out of a flower and popped it in his mouth. Sophie reached out a hand, mouth open in warning, but it was too late. He grimaced gracefully, and swallowed the sour berry. Sophie scowled at him.

"Howl, you idiot, don't just eat something off of a magical plant! Some wizard you are."

He turned, grinning bashfully. Sophie fought down a grin of her own, and did her best to look menacing.

"I haven't even finished testing the effects. I have _no_ idea what might...happen..." Sophie trailed off, staring horrified.

"What? Whats wrong?" Howl looked down at his lapel and then back up, self-consciously brushing his clothes down.

Sophie pointed, her mouth gaping like a dying fish as she tried to articulate what she was seeing.

"Your...your...oh god."

"Out with it woman!" Howl's voice rose up at the end, ruining all semblance of poise.

"Your face is turning orange!" She blurted out, covering her mouth as the hilarity of it hit her, and the giggles began to rise.

He was still for a moment, as his expression immediately turned shocked, and then horrified, as he ran to the counter and shoved Sophie over, searching desperately for a looking glass in the drawers. All the drawers were turned out, but no mirror was found. Howl frustratedly waved his hand in the air and an icy panel appeared in front of his face, perfectly reflecting his deep orange face, and hair that was slowly turning green.

He stood there in silence for a full ten seconds, and Sophie waited with abated breath. Her diaphragm hurt from holding in the laughs.

Then without a word, he turned on his heel and ran out of the flower shop, straight for the castle. The minute he was out of sight, Sophie burst out laughing, clutching her ribs. Tears leaked at the corners of her eyes, and to anyone who was passing by the shop windows, they would witness her bent over in a very unladylike position.

She was still laughing when Howl burst back into the shop ten minutes later, quivering with anger.

"You!" He pointed with a shaking finger. "Fix this!"

"Oh, my sides," Sophie moaned. "No, don't come near me, I don't think I'll survive another laugh." And with that she covered her eyes tightly, desperately trying to suppress the giggles.

"Yes, just sit there laughing blindly, while you let me turn into a bloody pumpkin! Or, even worse, a bloody Oompa Loompa! I can't go out like this!" His voice changed over to a dramatic high pitch, which only made Sophie laugh harder.

"Oh god...please stop...talking," she gasped out. Her ribs were dying, and with the corset, she was sure she was beginning to see stars.

Howl swore violently, and stalked towards her, ripping her hands off her eyes to force her to look at him. Underneath, her eyes were squeezed shut obstinately.

"WOMAN. FIX ME."

A wave of flowery perfume and underlying man scent rushed into Sophie's senses. This only made her laugh harder, her hands helplessly pinned by Howl.

"I...don't know how...to fix it...Howl I can't breathe!"

He paused in frustration. "Then stop laughing!"

"I'm...trying...not helping...let me go damn it!" She needed to take this corset off, and preferably feed it to Calcifer.

Blearily, she opened her eyes in an attempt to look serious. However, she did not take into account how close Howl's face would be. His nose was scant inches from her face, his straight eyebrows furrowed intensely towards her, and his now green hair tickled the sides of her face. Her breath caught, and the remaining giggles died in her throat. If it was hard to breath before, it was even harder now. Despite being a living pumpkin, he was still Howl...and Howl was...

He caught the immediate change in her eyes, and stared intently, his green eyes a steely slate. He seemed to hesitate, an internal debate flashing rapidly in his eyes, before he leaned in closer. Sophie began to hyperventilate, black spots dancing in her vision, and just as his lips lightly brushed hers, her eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted.

* * *

**A/N:**

**EVERYTHING BELOW IS IMPORTANT. READ IT. YOU MIGHT END UP MENTIONED but I can't promise shit. Kissesss.**

**lol. Oh the inspiration that trains give. I wrote a short story a few years ago about trains, but that was about a subway train thing and it was very macabreish. Though nevertheless inspired on a train.**

**ANYWAY. **

**Hope you enjoyed that.**

**Thank you all for your reviews! And favorites and subscribing!**

**Anon reviewers, make an account or somefink so I can like. Reply proper like.**

**This means you Lauren, Venua01, Lily, No name person, Nicolas Raine, Quiche (I BET YOU HAVE AN ACCOUNT YOU DO YOU DO I KNOW IT LAZY MOO oh wait now I remember that you were going to anon nag me BUT YOU CAN'T DO THAT IF YOU LEAVE CLUES), and Kstarsl.**

**So yes. If you wanna find out what happens after Sophie fainted REVIEW. REVIEW MY PANTS OFF. REVIEW YOUR PANTS OFF. THROW IN A BRA, I NEED SOME NICE ONES.**

**You're also getting a lemony one shot or two soon, for EmilytheWanderer and if wanted for JumpmikeJump, if I so recall, so help me get it out sooner by REVIEWING. THE LONGER THE REVIEW THE FASTER ALL SHALL COME. *Unabashedly begging***

**REVIEW. **


	23. Chapter 23

**AN:  
Don't you hate it when authors take foreverrr to update? Me too.**

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie. _

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 23: In Which There is Less Time  
**

When Sophie awoke, she wasn't entirely sure where she was. She was wrapped in something soft and warm, and she hadn't felt this relaxed in ages. Or as comfortable.

With great reluctance, she began to open her bleary eyes, to find that she was lying face down, on Michael's bed (she could tell by the sheets), and covered with his huge, fluffy, goose down quilt. Almost immediately after, she realized that she was in nothing but her under shift. And then she remembered she had fainted, and remembered the events that had preceded it (all the while a flush rising in her cheeks). The indecency of it embarrassed her, and she didn't want to think of what might have occurred if she'd stayed conscious.

However, knowing what happened while she was unconscious was another matter.

Where were her clothes?

She pulled herself into a sitting position, holding the quilt to her chest, and saw that her her dress was neatly folded on a chair, her shoes positioned underneath. Her corset was no where to be seen.

Her face, which had been pink when she woke up, was steadily growing more red.

Who undressed her?

Or, more importantly, did Howl undress her?

She didn't want to think about it. Not really.

A peek out the window told her that night had fallen, and Sophie sighed. She shouldn't have been out for too long.

One more world-weary sigh, and she pulled herself out of bed, shivering slightly as the cold air hit her bare skin. Dressing was infinitely faster without a corset, despite all the buttons, and in a few minutes she was peeking her way out of the door, her hands busy taming her hair. There were voices, she could now hear, coming out of the castle's main room. The sense of ironic deja vu was not lost on her.

One voice she immediately identified as Howl, and the other she realized was Martha. That could potentially clear up a few important questions.

There was a light clatter of porcelain.

"Honestly Howl, she was still breathing, you didn't need to fly me over."

There was a humph. "I would think that you'd hold more concern for your own sister."

"Yes, but I think storming into the bake shop and grabbing me with no courtesy of discretion...anyway, this sort of things happen to ladies all the time. No need for that sort of alarm. Sophie's a hardy girl."

Sophie smiled. She could imagine Martha's pretty face twisted into a petulant frown.

"I do apologize. I was merely acting for Sophie's benefit."

Oh dear. Sophie knew that voice, and she sincerely hoped that Martha would not press the point.

"Yes, of course. Anyhow, I should return to the bake shop, so they won't think someone had died."

A chair scraped against the floor.

"What should I do with that?"

"What? Oh, well, I suppose let Sophie decide. She'll have to get new stays for it, as you somehow cut them while she was still dressed."

How in the world?

"You were taking too long undressing her. Simple spell."

Wizard. Right.

Wizard that knows spells to undo corset stays?

"Howl, I'd barely stepped into the room. You really need to...oh nevermind. Nevermind. I understand."

There was no reply other than a half hearted grunt, and Sophie heard a Martha say a goodbye, before a door opened and shut.

She heard Howl sigh, and there was another open and close of a door. Sophie decided that this would be a good time to go downstairs.

The hearth was empty, save for a few embers. The table was still cluttered on one side, bare on the other, and her rose lay there next to two empty teacups. Walking over, she picked it up, the wilted petals perking up instantaneously. She smiled, and replaced it in her haphazard bun. To her right, draped on a chair, was her corset. Indeed, the stays were neatly cut, and if she wanted to use that corset again, she'd have to replace them all. Burning it never was so tempting.

"Sophie?"

She turned abruptly, her heart tumbling down to her stomach in fright.

Howl stood in the castle doorway, one hand already pushing the door behind him. She hadn't heard him at all, which was surprising considering the empty echo of the room.

"Oh, Howl. Goodness, you scared me." She scowled slightly, annoyed at being caught off guard.

He shrugged, discreetly keeping an arm folded behind his back. Sophie's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Are you quite alright now, Sophie?" he asked, his tone light.

Her eyes had wandered from the bicep of his hidden arm, slowly up until it reached his own. Howl was not looking at her, however, and seemed to be studiously eyeing the empty fireplace. When Sophie didn't reply immediately, he stepped forward into the room and gingerly seated himself at the table. Only then did he look at her expectantly.

She pursed her lips. Howl hadn't been this calm or indifferent since the dissolving of his demon contract, and her thoughts immediately flew to the dark haired girl, with her pretty blush and Howl's fingers brushing her cheeks gently, and Howl's indulgent smile that _she _used to get...

_Enough Sophie!_

She shook her head, her hands clenched in the stays of her ruined corset.

"Sophie?"

Her head snapped up, and she shuffled in embarrassment. Right. Conversation.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, I'm fine now," she squeaked out.

Howl nodded, and stood up, scraping the chair backwards. Sophie stood still as he brushed past her, obviously heading for the bathroom.

"Wait!" She blurted out.

Howl was in the doorway of the bathroom, and he turned to peek over his shoulder. "Hm?"

"Uhm..." Sophie fumbled for words. She just hadn't wanted him to leave the room yet. "Well, I was wondering...how you were doing?"

He turned fully around, and gave her a quizzical look. Still hiding his arm, she noticed.

"You know...the uhm...the pumpkin berries! You're all better now?" Phew. Crisis averted. Go Sophie.

Howl paused, making her squirm, before he gave himself an appraising look over, exaggeratedly checking his hand, his hair, and even in his pants. His eyebrows rose at that point, and he gave Sophie a little lopsided grin. "Nearly."

Sophie blushed and averted her eyes.

"Uhm, well that's good. So it..uhm..it's fading off on its own?"

He shrugged. "I suppose. I didn't pay much attention-your clothing nearly killing you was a major distraction."

"Oh." Sophie looked down at her feet, blushing as the memory preceding her black out immediately coming to mind.

"Well," she tried again nervously, noticing too well that she'd prevented Howl in his quest to get inside the bathroom again. "Well, would you...ah," Think Sophie! "Would you mind...eating another one! So I can observe the effects?"

Howl didn't even turn around to answer her. "Absolutely not." The door shut rather loudly.

"Okay then!" She yelled. "I'll just start dinner! I mean, is that okay? It's been a while and I thought—"

An assenting grunt cut her off, followed by the groan of the hot water pipes.

"Alright," she said quietly to herself. "I'll just...I'll just start on the potatoes. Lord knows I'll have enough time the way that man takes baths."

* * *

One hour later, the potatoes were gurgling in a pot of boiling water along with chicken bits and onions, and Sophie was cutting up a slew of carrots into neat piles, deep in thought. She had rolled up her sleeves tight, and had tied on an apron.

She smiled. Sophie hoped that moments like this one would soon become an everyday normality. The thought, however, made her mouth turn down slightly as the plans to thwart Edward Atkin subsequently came to mind. She and Calcifer had decided to attack during her wedding when she would be able to have many wizards present without suspicion. And more importantly, she needed to stop slipping up around Howl. There were too many times where she'd let her guard down, and if he found out because of her lack of competency, all would have been for nothing.

The bathroom door opened with a bang, steam billowing into the room.

Sophie jumped in surprise, nearly slicing a finger. Perfume pervaded the room, mixing oddly with the smell of the stew.

One hour, though. A new record, Sophie mused, given the circumstances.

Howl sat down at the table gracefully, dressed in a plain white shirt and black trousers. It seemed odd, seeing as Howl usually never walked around half dressed, but he _did_ only spend an hour in the bathroom. Perhaps he was losing his touch.

_And hopefully that means he hasn't touched another _demon_!_ Sophie thought excitedly. She cut up the last of the carrots vigorously, pleased.

"You didn't have to cook," Howl murmured after a few moments of silence. The stew gurgled in the background, accompanied by the spit of the fire.

Sophie shrugged. "I know," she replied with a bright smile. _I must look amazingly happy and calm. He almost _kissed_ me today. That cannot happen again. 'It didn't happen' face!_

"It's been a while, and who knows when I'll get the chance again," she continued.

She peeked a glance at him as she picked up the cutting board, but his face was blank.

"So," she turned to dump the carrots in the pot, wincing when hot broth splattered onto her bare arms. "How is your sister? And your niece and nephew?"

Sophie set the cutting board into its shelf, and sat down at the table. Howl looked up at her briefly, before averting his gaze.

"I haven't seen them in a bit, so I wouldn't know."

Sophie frowned. "Don't you have that voyeuristic spell in your room?"

"Haven't been in my room much either," he said apathetically.

Sophie bit her lip. Michael had said Howl was disappearing a lot. If not to Wales...then to where?

"I've heard that you been roaming around a bit," Sophie said tentatively. When Howl didn't respond, she tried again. "Michael said that you've been gone a lot, without a word. What have you been doing?"

She felt like shrinking in her chair when Howl turned his cool green gaze on her, but she resolutely straightened her back with a swallow.

"I find it odd that you are concerned, seeing as you had wanted nothing to do with me not so long ago." His words were cold, and they made Sophie slump slightly.

"I know, I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just that..." She trailed off with a sigh. There was no way to explain it. Howl's weird mood swings were giving her a headache, too.

"Look." She rubbed her face with one hand agitatedly. "I handled things pretty horribly, but it wasn't as if I stopped caring for you. You're my friend Howl, and I worry when Michael tells me that you leave for weeks on end without a word."

He wasn't looking at her anymore, but she could feel his tense aggravation acutely. Then, all of a sudden, his posture calmed.

With a scrape of the chair, he sat up and leaned towards her, hands on the table. "I'm a grown man, Sophie. My whereabouts are my own concern, and your concerns are a bit hypocritical wouldn't you say?"

She clenched her jaw. "Yes but...what about your apprentice Howl? The one who's about to get married? The one who chose you as his best man?"

Her voice trembled angrily.

"I understand that maybe I don't deserve knowledge of your safety given my own behavior, but surely Michael and Calcifer do!"

"Fine!" Howl bit out, making her flinch away. He gave her a once over, and leaned back in his chair once more.

"I have been traveling to different places in my world. I scrambled the portal so that no one would get through but me. So no one would get lost."

"Oh," Sophie said quietly.

"And recently," Howl said, almost cutting off her small reply. "I have spent time seeing a girl. Now none of you need concern yourselves over my doings anymore."

"Y-you...a girl?" Sophie stuttered out. That would explain the beautiful, dark haired, rosy cheeked, _endowed,_ flower gifted tart Howl had brushed her off for.

"Just because you found me undesirable does not mean others do," he scowled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with distaste.

"No no," she waved a hand. "Sorry, that's not what I meant." She fell back in her chair.

Howl had found another girl. Sophie fought hard to fight down the tears rising. Now, more than ever, did she hate Edward Atkin. Now, if she succeeded in saving Calcifer, Howl would be gone.

Now, she could only, and would do this for Howl and Calcifer. Her desires would not longer be part of the equation.

She stood up, avoiding his gaze.

"I, uhm, I have to go." She ignored the way her voice hitched. "I forgot that I was...supposed to help Martha decide on bouquets for the bridesmaids."

Grabbing her ruined corset, she nearly ran out of the room, spinning the castle door's knob to orange and escaping down the mansion's drive.

She could feel his eyes following her out the door.

* * *

The way home was not a pleasant one. Tears streamed down Sophie's face, and she didn't know if she was more upset that she'd slipped up again, or that Howl had moved on.

Was it possible to love someone so much, without them feeling something in return?

Wiping her face with the side of her corset, she sighed, and made her way up the drive of Fanny's mansion. Before she came to the doors, she wiped at her eyes again and fussed with her hair.

The main hall was a flurry of activity, even at the late hour. The reception for Martha's wedding would be taking place at Fanny's mansion, and the whole place was being turned over. An assortment of tables and chairs were stacked against an old tapestry, and several servants were preoccupied with an assembly line of silver polishing. Sophie's sisters were no where in sight.

She hurried up the spiral staircase to her room. With each passing floor, the din quieted and only a few servants scurried past her with a nod. Her chest heaved with exertion and suppressed unhappiness.

No tears threatened to appear, for Sophie had really quite enough of that Only a sense of heavy determination was upon her. Now was the time to focus on the preservation of Calcifer's and Howl's life, and there was no space for pining and whimsical notions. She had never been that kind of girl, she thought to herself, and the lack of feminine fortitude she displayed over the past few weeks was shameful. Her hand's grip on the corset tightened unconsciously.

She was tired of being constantly no good, easily flustered, and under prepared. Constantly cow-towing to an authority, whether it had been Fanny, then Howl, and now Atkin. Even as she conspired to bring down her enemy, she was merely pointing in directions for Calcifer to run off and investigate.

She wasn't even planning her own fake wedding! Sophie blew a tuft of hair out of her face indignantly. Atkin would be arriving tomorrow, and it was time for Sophie to stop cowering in a corner, acting paranoid at every turn.

She stopped in front of the door to her rooms, deciding immediately that she would show them all!

* * *

Later that night, Sophie was sitting at her desk, looking over papers riddled with contacts. Those who were helping, those who would not, and those who had yet to be contacted. She mulled over the latter, wondering if it would be necessary to recruit even more people. It would raise the risk of exposure, but if the extra manpower was intimidating enough for Atkin to surrender...

She did not want any bloodshed.

And it all did seem a bit much for one man, but Calcifer had warned her not to underestimate Atkin, not when the man was slowly stealing Calcifer's demonic magic.

Speaking of which, Calcifer was to stop by that night. Sophie propped her chin up with one hand. He had been slowly calculating the exact power Atkin had accumulated, as well as the rate at which it was being extracted, and an approximation was promised by today.

Soft candlelight flickered on her face, and Sophie let out a small sigh. It was nearly 11 o'clock, and her eyes were starting to sting with fatigue. The room was a mess of golden shadows that flickered with the candlelight. Flickering enough that Sophie did not notice one shadow that paused by her terrace, before gliding onwards.

Tightening the ties of her robe, Sophie stood up and pushed out of her chair. With a disgruntled face, she moved it in front of the fireplace and sat down once again to wait. Her eyes were too tired to look at anymore plans. However, sleep was not going to be in any immediate future, not until Calcifer showed up. It was too important. Her eyes prickled uncomfortably.

The candle flame danced briefly to an invisible breeze. Behind Sophie was her bed, the covers already pulled back enticingly. She couldn't see that, of course, but she knew it. Her eyes began to droop, the empty hearth in front of her blurring. With little resistance, her head lolled onto her shoulder and she fell asleep.

* * *

A piercing sunbeam woke Sophie up. It wasn't the soft light of dawn. It was a mid-morning autumn blaze. She flung an arm over her face and with the other groped for the quilt—a make-shift shield. When it soon became apparent that there was no quilt, and that she was in no bed, Sophie lifted her arm up slightly, looking down at her sprawled limbs. Immediately, a pain in her shoulders and lower back began to throb, and her legs tingled threateningly with the onset of pins and needles.

Sitting up gingerly, she stretched her back, biting her lip as the numbness in her legs began to prickle and tickle ferociously.

A quick glance about the room showed her the mess of papers waiting on her desk, her tidy room, and her bed, unslept in. Without another thought, she shuffled over to her desk, and began to organize the papers into a pokey pile. The pokey pile went directly into a desk drawer. Before closing it up, Sophie blew on the papers lightly, and they slowly faded away, hidden. She shut the drawer.

Her gaze fell on her chair. A frown formed as she recalled why she had fallen asleep there in the first place. Calcifer had been at least two hours later, and she'd waited until exhaustion took her. It wasn't the first time she'd fallen asleep, but normally if Calcifer arrived to find her as such, he'd affectionately burn her awake.

No irritating patches of skin were to be found, Sophie saw, and she crossed her arms in a huff. She sincerely hoped that nothing terrible happened, because she didn't think she could handle any more worry.

* * *

After getting dressed in the plainest dress Atkin had given her, Sophie made her way downstairs, awkwardly dodging various servants who had their hands full with flowers, furniture, and other various miscellaneous wedding items.

Many of the flower arrangements she recognized, as she'd picked them out herself, earlier in the week. Michael had tinkered with a bouquet bush spell, and all Sophie had to do was alter which flowers would grow on them.

Curiously enough, when Sophie reached the main hall, there was a line of servants bringing in bundles of flowers in all assortment of vases, some leaving them in the hall before leaving again, and some arranging where they would go. Tables and chairs were all set up, as well as a great long table for the bride and groom and their family. The ceremony would be held in the church in Port Haven, and then guests would be transported via spell to the mansion.

As Sophie stepped outside, there were less people, and she could see the outdoor tents being set up. Still, there was a whole line of people leading down the street to the mansion. Following it, she realized that all the flowers were being hauled back forth to the house from the flower shop, through the castle.

Many of the servants looked disgruntled as she said hello.

* * *

The door of the castle was closed as she approached, a few people trickling in and out with flowers, the door shutting each time behind them. She caught the door as one flower arrangement made its way out. Inside, the castle was alive with noise. The place was jam-packed with her family and servants. Lettie, Fanny, Martha and Michael and Howl were all in the shop, moving about in a flurry. Lettie was hounding Martha about her wedding dress ("You need to start dressing now!"), Fanny nattering about Lettie ("Oh when is Wizard Suliman coming, dear?"), Michael hovering over Howl ("Wait, where exactly are those vases coming from?"), and Howl was bent over with his hand in a little bag, whipping out vases to hand off to a line of waiting servants, their hands full of freshly cut flowers. Martha was sitting down, tiredly sipping at a cup of tea. Sophie sat down next to her, and Martha leaned her head on her shoulder. Howl's presence was, as usual, always a spotlight in the back of her mind.

"There, there." Sophie said, and patted Martha's blonde crown.

"Martha-a, if you don't start getting dressed now you won't make it to your own wedding! Sophie, don't mess with her hair!"

"Lettie, it's just that I really wanted to know if he was coming early, especially since Sophie said he'd be bringing acquaintances of his, however polite that is, and I want to be most thoroughly introduced beforehand..."

"Howl, I think that's enough vases...there aren't that many bushes left..."

"Mother, I don't know when he's coming. He'll come when he'll come!"

"I'll get dressed in a bit Lettie, it's still nine in the morning and I'm very fatigued..."

The commotion was a little terrifying, and Sophie sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to go through this in a week. The thought sent a sickening ache to her stomach, and she turned her head down in reflex. In her line of sight was the hearth, cold and empty. With all the people in the room and the sun shining through the windows, it was warm enough to go without a fire.

Today Edward would arrive, if he hadn't already. He hadn't sent her any word, unsurprisingly. Still, she was nervous as to how he expected her to act. Her plans were carefully unfolding, but any wrong move on her part would be disastrous.

_Just smile Sophie. _

A smile could hide a myriad things.

"Sophie, Lettie, Martha, come now," stated Fanny loudly. "It's high time all of us started to get dressed., including Michael, and he can't do that while we're still here."

Sophie glanced up about the room to see a large pile of unused vases in the corner, with a still bent over Howl puzzling over which way was best to send them back.

"Howl," she called suddenly. He looked up at her through a curtain of floppy golden hair.

"We can use them in the flower shop, stop fussing."

His only reply was to stand up straight, send a shrug her way, and heavily land a pat on Michael's shoulder.

"Well then, you heard the woman. Let's get you into your pretty clothes," Howl declared, forcefully steering Michael upstairs.

"What—? But that's what I've been saying for...Howl what—" His voice cut off with the close of the door.

Lettie shrugged, and steered Martha out the door in turn, Fanny trailing behind.

With a sigh, Sophie stood up out of her chair, brushing down the front of her dress. Her eyes were aching poignantly with fatigue, and she could feel the dark circles imprinted on her face. Fanny wouldn't be happy, but it was Martha's wedding so she wouldn't fuss much.

As she reached for the door handle, a small hiss made her pause. Turning her head slightly, she searched for the sound again. There were irregular thumps from upstairs, and the normal static of quiet. Sighing, she moved to the door again.

"Psst," it came again.

Turning around fully, she clenched a fist and scrutinized the room. Everything seemed in its orderly chaos, but there was something...

She would've missed the glow of the fireplace, but for the small tendril of flame that beckoned her over.

A quick glance at the stairwell door preceded her hurrying over to the fireplace. All that she could see were the dull glow of embers, sparking with brightness as her breath blew over them.

"Calcifer?" she whispered.

Two eyes popped over a small piece of charred wood, and a tiny mouth.

"Sophie," he said. She had to lean forward to catch the word.

"Calcifer, are you alright?" She began. "You didn't come last night."

He sighed, the embers below him flickering.

"I'm sorry. I was visiting the last two of the contacts. Two people I met while trying to find a spell to create my body..." His light diminished as he spoke. "I didn't have enough energy to get back home until the morning."

Sophie's brown wrinkled with worry. "You weren't this tired last week..."

She caught his little nod. "Atkin has been increasing the amount he's been sucking up. I've finally figured it out, though it'll be a bit fudged with his latest draw." His voice quieted even more. "I'll have just 'til your wedding Sophie. No longer."

He was just a tiny spot of light now.

"Oh Calcifer," she said, her voice taut with anxiety. Their limited time was painfully apparent. "Is there anything I can do? Anything I can give you?"

His smalls eyes narrowed sharply, as her hands crept up to her breastbone.

"No Sophie. I wouldn't take your heart, or anything else from you."

"But, it wouldn't have to be my—"

"No," he said forcefully, his flames lighting up in emphasis. "I won't. It could link you to Atkin, and what if he started taking your magic? I wouldn't curse you to a contract with a demon anyway."

"Oh Cal." A watery smile crept onto her face. "You're sounding so human. We'll have to get you fixed."

"God forbid I have morals," he quipped, sinking into his nest of ash.

* * *

**AN:**

**So, I've had a lot of shit going on and so I really apologise for such a late update. Again. ;-;**

**I'll be replying to all your reviews soon, which lately have just ATTACKED my e-mail with fierce voracity I just stared. And decided that even though I wanted to make this chapter longer, I couldn't bear to not update anymore. YOUR REVIEWS INFLUENCE MEEE. A lot.**

**Thus this chapter is mostly filler. ): Next one will be shoooper exciting!  
**

**Review and let me know what you think! **

**Oh, I've started another story. :'D It was meant to be a lemon oneshot, but I just let the plot runaway from me. So it might just end up being a for fun short-chaptered story. I've got nearly 20k words, so it'll be done...soon... ~(*-*~)(~*-*)~ **


	24. Chapter 24

**AN:  
I'm a poopface.  
Rest of author's note at bottom. Read it otherwise I'll be angry. |: **

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**In Which there is a Wedding**

Sophie found it a bit hard to reconnect with the present as she left Calcifer to doze in his hearth. Her sisters had already been shepherded out of the door by their mother, leaving her to hurriedly catch up.

The endeavor was not difficult, especially as Fanny's idea of a brisk walk had been slowed down over the years. Lettie was clutching Martha's arm, excitedly pronouncing how excited she was, whilst Martha was walking in silence, a happy grin finally manifesting itself upon her face.

As they arrived at the mansion, the drive was neatly lined with a motley assortment of flowers in various urns (they matched somewhat; it seemed the staff had been able to make do with the many vessels imposed upon them). The air was pleasantly filled with the aroma of flowers. Sophie had made sure in her choice of floral decor that there would be no sickening flowery stench to ruin the event. In fact, the entire arrangement the staff had produced was incredibly aesthetic, and Sophie would have paused to admire their handiwork had it not been for a brisk tug on her arm by Fanny.

"The wedding is in five hours," Fanny admonished. "Now is not the time to stick one's head in the clouds."

Tamed by fatigue, Sophie allowed herself to be marched to her rooms to be dressed. Fanny left her with two maidservants. Sophie was Martha's maid of honor to her chagrin (Howl was Michael's best man), and the two girls assisting her dress obediently shook out the elaborate wedding frock made exactly for that position. It was a Mayan blue, light but strong, and it complimented her hair nicely. That was the only thing that Sophie approved.

It was overly elaborate, with a three tiered, ruffled skirt made of taffeta and a fitted bodice. The sleeves were long, with extended wrists, and their was a small puff of fabric at the cap. The waist was cinched, and like a corset was boned. Thankfully, the neckline was relatively modest, but it was lined with lace that matched the embroidery that lined the bodice.

It was far too much.

But, it was what Martha wanted. It was probably, Sophie mused, a gesture to acknowledge the dresses she had made for her sister in the past. A rather horrid, horribly made one, but she accepted the appreciation. If she did not herself appreciate it, well, it would only be worn for a day.

One of the girls, who Sophie remembered was named Lucy, had laid the dress neatly over a chair, and the other had begun to unpluck the stays of Sophie's dress. Lucy then opened a small box that was set upon the dressing boudoir, and unpacked various cosmetic and hair implements.

Sophie was now in her undergarments, and with polite smiles on their faces, the girls directed her to sit down. Their goal was apparent. With a sigh, she surrendered herself to be painted, coifed, and curled.

* * *

In the midst of having her eyebrows shaped, (an experience that Sophie felt was very unnecessary), another maidservant knocked on the door. Once inside, in a quiet voice she informed Miss Sophie that her fiance had arrived, and was being served tea in the main parlor.

The otherwise calming ministrations Sophie was slowly dozing to lost their effect. She thanked the girl and dismissed her, indicating for her 'dolling up' to continue. Her tired mind buzzed awake as her hair was being carefully curled, welling up with stored plans and various schemes, the ground layout and the contingencies of her plan. _Focus, Sophie._

It was time to greet Atkin on the cheek, and stay by his side in every free moment, and make absolutely sure that Howl suspected absolutely _nothing _while she plotted the downfall of her betrothed.

* * *

All too soon was Sophie coaxed from her doze on the chair into the blue taffeta monster. Her undergarments had to be pulled and tucked so that they settled flat under the dress, so that they wouldn't show above the neckline, said the maids. Sophie allowed herself to be fussed over, albeit quiet, surly, and absolutely certain that never would she wear the dress again. Not for anyone.

She glanced down at her lace covered hands, where the maids had dutifully pulled on the flimsy gloves that matched her dress. In a few hours, she would be subjected to the will of her captor, all the while with a smile on her face. And yet, it didn't feel as foreboding as it once had. Now that she knew that Howl had moved on, a more solid sense of purpose had filled her. She ignored the fact that there was more than a little bit of martyrdom incorporated.

In any case, anything she did where she benefited never seemed to work out. However, now that her own personal desires had been cut out of the equation, she could focus on helping others. That, it seemed, was more suited to her abilities. First borns never do get what they want, anyway.

Sophie obediently lifted her foot as it was nudged, but when she looked down to see that the maids were putting on her stockings, she literally put her foot down.

Shooing the two girls out of the room with much passive-aggressive hinting, Sophie sat down on the edge of her bed with a sigh, and mechanically reached over the massive puff of a skirt for her foot.

After a few minutes of struggling, she started to regret sending the two maids away. In the end, she just growled at the stockings a few choice words, and they zipped onto her feet without anymore fuss.

She slid off the bed, and found her shoes by the dressing table, waiting to be wiggled into. Sophie did so without another thought, and turned her head to glance in the mirror as the second shoe slipped into place.

It took her a moment to recover from the shock.

The girl doing her face had been a little enthusiastic, to say the least.

Her eyes were painted a rather gaudy shade of gold, her eyebrows and eyelashes were darkened to black, round spots of rouge sat brightly on her nose, chin, and cheeks, and her lips were a bright apple red.

She looked like a harlot.

As her anger rose, her face flushed a brighter red, only inciting her frustration further. She started to tone down her face with wipes, when a rather succinct knock came upon her door.

"Yes?" she called out, tersely.

"Are you quite finished?" came a lazy drawl, and Sophie's blood froze.

She stared in the mirror, mouth slightly opened in unhappy surprise. It took another moment for her earlier resolve to trickle in, and she spun on her heel, walking towards the door with purpose.

"Only just. A girl has to look her best," she replied, opening the door open as she finished her sentence.

Edward was leaning against the doorjamb, showing off a well cut figure in a traditional black suit. Sophie swallowed slightly. She could not deny that he was remarkably handsome, and it made her hate him even more.

A quirk of a smile made its way on her lips.

"Did someone get impatient?" she quipped.

His eyes narrowed at the comment, momentarily distracting him from his eye wandering.

"I see your character has rather improved. Who knew that all you needed was a night with me to make a woman of you?" He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. "Although, I must say your taste in cosmetics is still lacking."

Sophie clenched her jaw, and made to defend herself, until she realized that she was merely taking his bait. She let out an inner sigh, and relaxed her posture.

"Well, what you see is what you get. You _are_ marrying this."

"Ah," he said, his eyes returning to their lazy half-mast position. "Correct."

She did not like the feral gleam his eyes had taken on.

"Before I am further distracted by your...accentuated features, let us return to the topics at hand. For our wedding,I find that I am at a loss for groomsmen and have enlisted the help of your friends. I'm sure that you won't mind. I would have asked the aid from others, but they are otherwise indisposed. I had all the suits made and delivered, so no fuss is to be had."

He turned slightly, giving her a view of his profile as he stared out her terrace doors.

"And which friends of mine, might I ask, have you asked?" Sophie questioned shortly.

"Oh, you know, Michael, Suliman, Howl. I have a best man, of course, so no worries there."

Sophie's breath caught in her throat.

"I have received all rsvp's from our guests," Edward continued. "In fact, quite a few more than I had anticipated. I was not aware of your acquaintance with the Wizard Earlmire, or Socerous Strangefruit."

"I am already friends with two rather famous wizards," Sophie said, with a small smile. "Surely you would realize that many more similar acquaintances would be made thus?"

Edward turned his head to gaze at her, his lazy smile in tact, but his eyes were cold pools of darkness.

"I see you've acquired a rather unladylike back bone." He stepped towards her, grabbing her shoulders with his hands tightly.

"I met someone interesting today," he started conversationally, despite his predatory hold. "It seems your _friend_ Howl has already moved on, and with quite the lady. Such effeminate grace, and slender figure. She is like..." he paused, looking up as if in thought, before looking down again.

"She is like a dark, mysterious vixen. A dashing the pair, they make."

Sophie stared up at him, unhinged by his sudden turn in topic. She was not prepared to hear about Howl's new affair, no matter how determined she was to follow through with her and Calcifer's plans.

"How does that make you feel, Sophie darling? To know that the man who loved you once has moved on so quickly. In a matter of months, in fact. Hardly a gentleman." He leaned in closer to her face, staring straight to the back of her head.

"You—!" She struggled in his grip. "For all your pretty, eloquent words, you cannot hide how ugly you are!" she growled.

"You are avoiding the question Sophie." He drew in closer, tugging her body flush against his. "No matter, for I know the answer."

She trembled, part in anger, part in fear. She narrowed her eyes with the former emotion, and snarled at him.

"Silence," he murmured, and pressed his lips to hers.

Resolutely, she kept her mouth closed, even as surprise ran through her at the gentleness of his kiss. Sophie knew better though. Behind his mild sheep's clothing, Edward Atkin was a feral dog.

Once, twice, thrice he pressed his lips to her, gently nibbling until she moved her face to the side to avoid him.

He moved back, lipstick smudged over his very satisfied smirk.

"At least you still smell lovely, darling." And with that, he swept out of the room.

* * *

"That horrible, horrible piece of lizard's guts!"

Sophie rubbed furiously at her mussed lips, despairing at the pink smudge that stubbornly stayed, hovering about her lips.

After Edward had left, she had merely stood in place, frozen by abject fury, disgust, and terror. A knock on the door woke her out of her trembling state of emotion, and she suddenly realized what her physical state was probably like. Stalling the knock with a "Just a minute!", she hurried to her vanity and commenced a furious removal of horribly smudged lipstick from her mouth and cheek.

A few knocks later announced the urgent need for her attendance, and finally she fixed the lipstick reapplied on her lips, and hoped that the pink halo around her mouth would be unnoticeable. She had tried coaxing it away with magic, but her nerves had only made a few sparks fly from her fingertips. Not a good thing to have near the face.

Another knock on the door. "Miss Sophie? Your mother is quite adamant that you come downstairs. Martha has just finished dressing."

"Coming!" Sophie called, and made her way to the door as quickly as she could without tripping over her skirts. The maid at the door stared briefly at Sophie's face when she opened the door, but made no comment. Sophie grimaced inwardly, and gingerly made her way to the servant's lift with the maid's help.

Downstairs, Fanny and Lettie waited, the former looking frazzled.

"There you are, Sophie. I had thought you would have been done ages ago. Lettie was done quickly enough, and you know how she gets. Mary just told me Martha's all done, and they're all helping her get down the stairs so that her dress isn't crushed in the lift."

Sophie walked over to stand by Lettie, who looked rather uncomfortable in a gown that matched Sophie's.

"I see Lucy got to you," her younger sister murmured. "Although, she's usually more accurate with lip color. Were you fussing? Or did it have to do with a certain—"

"Lettie," Sophie growled. "If you love me, you will be quiet."

She quieted, but the small smirk on her face remained.

"That Howl will be coming over to teleport us to Port Haven, so Martha won't sully her dress, by walking all the way over to his castle." Fanny waved her face with her hand, rather fruitlessly. "What a kind man. In fact, he should be arriving now, I thought I had told Jerold to fetch him at this time. It's been at least ten minutes and it should be any moment now, unless of course they had difficulties dressing themselves."

Lettie snorted inelegantly into her hand.

Sophie leaned closer to Lettie. "Teleport?" she whispered.

Her sister nodded. "Howl and Michael set up a few teleportation stations, to transport the guests from the castle to Port Haven, or from Port Haven to the mansion. The ones that lead to Port Haven have been activated, apparently, but Howl needs to activate the one here." Lettie yawned lightly, before continuing. "Michael said that the one here is a two way, so its more complicated, and has a shorter timespan."

Sophie nodded, and folded her arms over her stomach.

Not a moment later, the front doors were opened to admit their waited guest, the butler announcing his name hurriedly as the man sauntered without pause to the waiting party.

"Ladies," he greeted everyone.

Fanny rushed over to offer her hand, over which Howl bowed good-naturedly. He turned to Lettie, and kissed her hand perfunctorily, and as he turned to Sophie, she felt a heavy arm drape itself over her shoulders.

Howl had made to kiss her hand as well, but she could see his immediate change in countenance. What had been mild amusement turned to a blank, frozen look, and he straightened his posture.

"Sophie. A pleasure, as always," he said, not looking at her. "And your beau, I presume. Dreadfully sorry, but I can't recall who you are."

The hand on Sophie's left shoulder tightened briefly, before relaxing.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I am Edward Atkin." He extended his free hand. "Aren't you the Wizard Pendragon who visited my party a while ago?"

Howl took his hand swiftly, shaking it as brief as was polite.

"I cannot remember," he replied loftily. "There are many engagements I pop into, so unfortunately they all blur together after a while."

"Ah," Edward nodded, before looking down at Sophie. "Hello darling. You look lovely."

Sophie looked up passively, and noted with chagrin that although it seemed Edward had scrubbed off the lipstick, there was still a faded imprint of her lips. _That_ wasn't telling, not at all. As if reading her thoughts, his fingers brushed the side of her mouth, a small chuckle escaping him. The bastard probably hadn't tried that hard.

She managed a small smile, before turning back to the party and Howl. The wizard had already turned away, shoulders stiff, and was ushering everyone to step outside. Edward steered her to follow them.

* * *

The church in Port Haven was close to the water, and apart from the smell of sea brine, the entire affair was splendid. Everyone had arrived at the church, and so upon arrival the girls went to the side entrance, while Edward found his seat inside. In a small room, Martha's dress was double checked, the flower girl was given her basket of petals, and the ring boy his pillow. Michael was waiting in another room, with Howl and the Wizard Suliman. Fanny, by Martha's request, would give the bride away.

Usually, the best man would enter and wait at the alter with the priest and the groom, and the bridesmaids would walk down the aisle themselves. Despite the small party, Martha insisted that each bridesmaid was escorted down the aisle. Odd of Martha, but no one protested the bride.

One of the church attendants popped into Martha's room, whispering that everyone was in their places and that the music was about to start. Sophie squeezed Martha's hand, as her sister took a deep breath and smiled brightly.

Sophie stepped out of the room, one hand on the door and the other clutching a bouquet, letting the flower girl and the ring bearer scurry out before her into the hallway. Howl and Benjamin Suliman were already waiting. For the first time, she noticed what Howl was wearing, and his tuxedo was slim and fitting. Instead of a bow tie, he opted for a ruffled cravat. Both men wore the same, and Sophie swallowed slightly. There was nothing more attractive than a man in traditional wear.

Fanny came out of the door with Martha, and both men made appreciative sounds. Looking frazzled, Fanny lined everyone up in their proper order, and made shooing sounds towards the entrance of the nave. First in line were Lettie and Benjamin, followed by Sophie and Howl. The ring bearer came next, then the flower girl, and lastly, Martha and Fanny.

Suliman bowed teasingly to Lettie, and crooked his elbow for her to take. She smiled, and the two entered the nave.

Sophie was hyperaware of the man at her side, one she hadn't spoken two words to all day. The tips of his perfectly arranged hair just brushed his shoulders, blonde contrasting brightly against the black of his coat. He wasn't looking at her, and as she looked down, she could see that his hands were clenched.

It was their turn to walk out.

"Howl?" she whispered. Abruptly, he looked down at her with a small smile on his face, and he offered his elbow accordingly. Lightly, she rested her hand in the crook, feeling him momentarily tense. To her surprise, she remained relatively clear headed, and as he guided her down the aisle, her only discomfort came from the many eyes trained on her. One set in particular, which she could feel burning a hole where her hand was connected to Howl's elbow. Taking a deep breath, she smiled, and jutted out her chin. She was a witch; she needed to live up to her tenacious reputation.

They separated gracefully, peeling off to stand by the altar on their respective sides. The ring bearer toddled down the aisle, looking blissfully ignorant of the attention focused on him, and following close behind was the flower girl, who took to distributing the flower petals with a solemn air.

When the girl had nearly reached the altar, Martha emerged. Sophie could hear Michael suck in his breath, and she glanced at him. His face was pale, but wondering. The amount of love in his gaze made a sharp pain lance through her chest. Sometimes, some things were too beautiful to look at. On that thought, she spared a glance at Howl, to find that his attention was focused solely on her.

Flushing, she immediately turned her glance to Martha. Her sister looked gorgeous, wearing a gown fit for a princess. Her eyes were only for Michael, and her earlier lethargy had completely disappeared, if the soppy smile on her face was anything to go by.

In a blink, Martha was at the altar.

"Who gives this woman in marriage?" the priest intoned.

"I do," Fanny firmly replied, before turning to her daughter with a smile and a kiss. She sat down, already teary.

"Dearly beloved," the priest continued. "We are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony." Martha and Michael smiled at each other, stepping forward to turn to the priest.

"Into this holy estate these two persons present come now to be joined. If any man can show just cause as to why they may not be lawfully joined together, let him speak now or else hereafter forever hold his peace." He paused, the soft skin of his chin wobbling lightly as he immediately shut his mouth.

Sophie turned slightly to face the couple as well, but she was still aware of the two gazes that were focused on her. She twisted her mouth in irritation. It was a wedding, for goodness sakes! They should focus on the event, and leave her well alone.

The priest continued, although Sophie only paid little attention. The two gazes upon her were both equally feral, and equally distracting, and she honestly could not wait for the wedding ceremony to end if it meant she was the constant focus of negative energy. Keeping her eyes resolutely fixed upon the marrying couple, she took comfort in the knowledge that tomorrow all the wizards and witches she and Calcifer had gathered would arrive. Tomorrow, their part in the plan would be fully revealed, and the day she would be free from Edward Atkin, the day she, Calcifer, _and_ Howl would be free would be all the closer.

The priest's words echoed about the vaulted ceilings.

"Do you, Michael Fisher, take this woman to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

Michael's voice rang confidently in the church. "I do," he stated, gazing lovingly at Martha.

"Do you, Martha Hatter, take this man to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do," choked out Martha, overcome with emotion.

Sophie smiled, happy for her sister and for Michael.

In her periphery, she could see the tall form that was Howl, and although she kept her eyes forward, she could feel the temptation to flicker her eyes for just a second, just to see him. She wished she could tell him everything, but even as she thought of it, the pull of Calcifer's—no, Atkin's curse dried up her throat and glued her jaw shut. She clenched her jaw in annoyance, and felt a rather strong and disturbing urge to scour pots.

Her mind currently a furious blur of irritation, she witnessed the exchange of vows with half a brain, only registering how Martha giggled nervously as she placed Michael's ring on.

"By receiving these rings and joining hands," Michael threaded his fingers through Martha's. "With the powers invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife with God and this company as our witness. You may now kiss the bride."

Michael lifted the veil, gently cupping his bride's face with his hands, and those in the pews cheered loudly as he placed a soft kiss on her mouth. They broke apart with a grin, and began a wild dash down the center aisle, Martha clinging to her veil and her skirt as the guests showered them with rice and rose petals.

* * *

The sea air was pleasant, and Sophie found herself feeling more relaxed than she had in ages. The sun was warm on her face, and the breeze was clean and heady (albeit with a slight fishy taint). There was a line of cheery guests, waiting to step into the portal to Fanny's house. There was one other portal, and Sophie had volunteered to watch this one. Guests had the notorious tendency to step in the wrong places of the transportation circle, and different parts of their body would travel at different times, to different places. Not a pleasant experience.

As the next guest stepped up to the line, Sophie mechanically reiterated the instructions to stay within the two blue lines and step into the middle circle. A whoosh of blue light lit her face, and the next guest stepped up to the empty portal.

"A very pleasant day in Port Haven, is it not my darling?"

She stiffened as a presence sidled next to her, blocking half of the sunlight that was warming her skin.

"It is quite pleasant," she managed to say politely, while letting the next guest through.

"Very nice. The wedding was also quite nice. It makes me anticipate how much better ours will be."

Sophie did not deign to respond. Despite the fact that she had a wandering mind for the majority of the ceremony, she could not have imagined a sweeter one. She hoped that her actual wedding would be as nice one day.

"You best get in line for a portal. Howl and I will be closing these up as soon as the guests are all transported to the other side," she stated firmly.

"Oh?" he drawled. "No need. I'll see you later then, darling." There was a small pop.

Sophie looked up, and was greeted with a face full of sun, and no impending husband. She huffed irritatedly, and didn't notice that one of the guests had stumbled into the transportation circle. There was a bright flash, and a squelch, and the crowd gasped sympathetically as Margerie Burns stared rather incredulously at her one of her missing legs, which lay flopping next to Sophie.

"Oh bother." She edged away from the leg. "Howl?"

She could distantly here a rather bored, "What."

"I'm afraid someone has split themselves again."

* * *

**AN:  
I suck poop. I know. But, it wasn't as long as that one time, where it was 6 months...because I'm pretty sure its been 5...**

**Anyway, first off I want to thank all the people who have reviewed this story, and my one shots. There's been over a hundred reviewers and I want to thank you, and apologize for not responding. I don't know if I have it in me to go back through them all and reply (I saved them in my email c: ), but I've read every single one and I loved them and they all helped eek out this chapter.**

**Second off. I have been so uninspired to write. It's like. My brain hates me. *depression***

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm currently outlining the next. I'm also submitting the first chapter of a story I'm working on, as an "I'm sorry please love me and read&review my work". Heart. Heart heart nyan cat face.**

**Wahhhh. ); I've just depressed myself. **


	25. Chapter 25

**AN: Message at bottom!  
****This month, Australia leads in the highest HMCAftermath reader stats! (U.S. does not count, because U.S. pretty much lives in ffnet. Haha.) In second is France, and coming in third is Malaysia! GO MALAYSIA! /ishalfmalaysian. **

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 25: In Which There are a Few Conversations**

Once the unfortunate business of locating Margerie Burns' other leg (and the reattachment of both) was finished, it wasn't long before Sophie had safely transported the last guest. Following Howl's previous instructions, she gingerly placed a finger on a rune bordering the circle, closed her eyes, and stated, "Evanui."

There was a gentle blue glow, and Sophie felt the tickle of magic as it rushed past her fingers and dissipated. Exhaling softly, she straightened her posture and unconsciously brushed down the front of her skirt. The street was completely empty, aside from the stray gull, and she turned to see Howl waiting by his portal, his guests already transported. As she came closer, she could see his face had turned slightly gray, and his posture was more hunched than his usual slouch.

"Howl," she started. "Are you alright?" Sophie stopped in front of him, and while she didn't touch him her eyes still studied his face worriedly.

"Just fine," he bit out gruffly. "Now get in the circle, hup hup." He didn't look at her.

Unconvinced, Sophie huffed. "Don't 'hup hup' me. You look awful."

This time he turned his head, sending her a cool glance. "Perhaps I'm not one for stomaching weddings."

She inwardly flinched. Howl motioned impatiently for her to get in the circle, ending the conversation. Sophie shook her head. He had to know that his staring throughout the ceremony did not go unnoticed, and yet face to face he was unkind like this.

Her face crumpled a bit as she remembered that her actions were most likely the cause for the strange and bipolar turn their relationship had taken. It would have been best to have stayed away from him as much as possible, but they had too many connections with the same people. That, and past failures proved that she was useless by herself.

She moved to the entrance to the circle, and as she made a step, the whole seal seemed to shiver.

"Howl?" she asked tentatively, stepping away.

As he turned to look at her, the whole circle rippled and the runes started peeling off of the street, falling to pieces in the air. Both watched in confusion as the transportation circle dissipated in a swirl of broken blue magic.

"That's just fantastic," Howl grumbled darkly. Her eyes narrowed, and she studied him closer. He looked closer to exhaustion, and it was definitely not from standing for half an hour in a church. In fact, he looked rather drained...

Sophie stifled a gasp with a gloved hand. It couldn't be that Calcifer's curse was affecting him so badly now? It was true that Howl had output a sizeable amount of magic that day, what with three transport circles in a matter of three hours. However, Howl was a formidable wizard even on his bad days, and she had never seen him look so close to passing out.

He looked sharply at her, and she hastily schooled her features from horror to worry. She ignored how his eyes narrowed, and looked about the street for a means of transportation.

"Alright. We're about...two or three leagues from the mansion? I wonder if anyone's got a horse, or a carriage we could hire. Do you have any coins on you? I'm sure the vicar could lend us...oh wait he's at the reception. Perhaps we could do some sort of credit, I bet—"

"Shush," Howl commanded, taking hold of her arm. Sophie was effectively quieted. "There's no need for such common means. Now start running."

"W-what?"

Howl ignored her, and dragged her along. A wind grew behind them, and Sophie felt her feet leaving the street.

"Howl! Are you sure you're capable of this?" she yelled over the growing wind. Her shoes scrabbled at nothing.

"If you don't keep running, you'll lose your leg!" was all he bothered to reply.

She huffed, but moved her legs faster.

"If you pass out from this because you've out-spent yourself, I swear Howl Jenkins...!"

A small smile curved on side of his cheek, and Sophie would have missed it had she not looked up at the same moment. She gripped his arm tighter, and focused on not looking down.

* * *

They were less than a mile from the mansion when Howl needed to set them down. They landed in the back of a beautifully cultivated garden, and the smell of late blooming roses was thick in the air.

He slumped against a tree, no longer putting up a (rather poor) facade of normalcy. Sophie sat next to him, and laid the back of her hand on his forehead. She swallowed when he leaned into her touch.

In the light of a setting sun, surrounded by flora and beauty, it was easy to forget the troubles that surrounded herself and Howl. There were many times that she wanted to tell Howl what was going on. She was sure that not only would their friendship be somewhat restored, but he could help her in defeating Atkin.

Alas, she was far too involved in the contract to be physically capable of any sort of relevant confession. And at this point, the only reason to say anything would be to vindicate herself.

And Howl had already moved on.

With a sigh, she removed her hand and sat back. His eyes opened wearily at the withdrawal of her touch.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

He groaned, and closed his eyes again. "You don't want to know."

He did look really and truly miserable, Sophie observed. And he wasn't even being melodramatic, which meant he was genuinely unwell and he knew it.

She felt a sudden urge to draw him down, and set his head upon her lap. In his weakened state, he'd put up no fight.

The desire to do so was overwhelming, and so she sat on her hands to prevent herself from doing anything regrettable.

"Howl?"

He grunted.

"Uhm...never-nevermind."

He opened an eye at her in response, and then closed it, leaning into the tree.

The sun was lighting the world up in fiery oranges and reds, and the reflection of light upon Howl's face made him look sun brazen and warm. The shadowed depth of his eyes against his pale skin was erased in the light, and he almost looked like he did before.

She shifted her legs under her, rustling her dress.

–

"We should leave soon," she said after a few minutes. "We'll be missed."

Howl sighed softly, and propped himself up. "Unfortunately, I'm a bit under the weather and my abilities are thus incapable of transporting us farther."

Sophie raised an eyebrow. "Well, we have to leave at some point, and sooner is better than later. I'd rather not have to steal anyone's horse so..."

Howl didn't move much.

"We're a mere mile from Fanny's. Do you think you can walk Howl?" Sophie asked, looking about. The air was starting to cool as the sun set, and she shivered slightly.

An eye opened to look at her. "I suppose." With a huge sigh, he pulled himself up off of the ground. Sophie rushed over to help him, and he staggered over a tree root into her side. She let out a whoosh of air as he practically fell on her, all the while digging her shoes into the ground so as to not fall over herself.

"Alright then. Let's go," she stated firmly, secretly reveling in the warmth of Howl's arm, despite her worry for his wellbeing.

Howl made no reply, except to step forward.

* * *

The way back was a rather silent one, filled only with the sounds of their breath and a few muttered swears when one would trip over some invisible root.

Half an hour later from their start, they found themselves on the driveway of the mansion. There was the sound of music from the garden, and the place was lit cheerfully with lanterns. As they stepped up the drive, Howl removed himself from around Sophie's shoulders. Immediately, she felt cool air rush in to take his place, and she watched him stride up the cobblestone away from her.

All of a sudden, she felt like a little girl again, dressed up like a clown in uncomfortable clothes, watching the world go on around her happily, beautifully. And all the while, she would stand there, feeling bedraggled and forgotten.

"Aren't you coming," a voice said, dragging her back to the present. Lantern light gleamed off the side of Howl's hair, outlining the profile of his face as it turned back to her.

"Yes, yes of course," she murmured, and began to gingerly step up the drive in her heels. The minute she caught up with Howl, he extended his arm, to which she lightly placed her hand upon. _Even now, he knows what I'm feeling, _Sophie realized. They entered the mansion thus.

"Oh Sophie! I was so worried, it's been at least two hours, all the guests came through but where were you two?" cried Fanny, flinging herself out of a conversation with the Wizard Suliman to run and embrace Sophie rather tightly. Fanny pulled back. "And dear, you look positively awful, why your makeup is quite smudged. Here, let's take you up to your room to clean up and you can tell me what happened," she grasped Sophie's arm. "Oh, Wizard Howl, if you like you can ask the butler to direct you to a powder room, and then please partake in the festivities."

"Fa—erm, Mother, it's quite alright. Please, don't bother yourself on my account. I'll just nip upstairs and be down in no time, and I'm sure Howl would be happy to inform you as to why we were so late. Is Martha faring well?"

"Yes, of course she's well. It's her wedding! I told her I'd wait for you here, and Wizard Suliman kindly accompanied me. But are you sure you haven't any need for assistance?"

"No no, I'll just get going," Sophie quickly demurred. She immediately started towards the staircase, but chanced one glance back at Howl. He was watching her leave. Biting her lower lip, she gave him a small wave, before hurrying up the stairs. She missed his small smile in response.

* * *

When Sophie came back, the garden was still full of partying guests. The band had struck up a rather jaunty tune, and there was a large circle of dancers spinning about, laughing.

She herself was feeling much better, after having washed off all the makeup, and changing into a more modest dress. If Martha asked, the lovely dress she'd made Sophie for the wedding was unfortunately ripped during her journey to the reception. It was an entirely plausible excuse.

The party tent was a wide one, that extended off of the terrace and into the garden. Sophie spotted Fanny laughing on the arm of her husband (who apparently was able to make if for the wedding), a sparkling glass of champagne dangling gracefully from one hand.

The edges of the tent and the surrounding trees were all accented with little lanterns, twinkling like fairy lights in the light breeze. Martha and Michael she could see in the dancing circle, hands clasped. They were facing each other, laughing. It was a beautiful sight.

"It is quaint, isn't it Sophie darling," came a low drawl.

She turned quickly, seeing a dark head come out of the shadows. Recognizing who the voice belonged to, she turned back to gazing at the party.

"I just cannot wait until it's us out there, darling. I can't wait to show the world that you are _mine_," he whispered, coming close behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. Sophie stiffened.

"I saved the bedding from our night together," he continued in a soft voice. "In case they'd like to see, after our wedding, how much of mine you are."

Sophie twisted out of his arms, teeth bared. "Don't you _dare_ presume to think that just because you stole something precious like that, don't you _dare_ think that I am yours. I will _never_ be yours," she hissed, voice breaking.

Edward merely laughed, before stepping forward to take her arm. "Now, now Sophie. I wouldn't have to do something _awfully_ drastic, like, say, drain the last bit of Calcifer's magic. That would just be unnecessary. I'd appreciate it if you'd cooperate." He led her across the grass to the tent. The dancing circle had broken up into couples, couples who were swaying to a slow song.

"Shall we?" he asked, and lead her onto the dance floor. Sophie swallowed down her disgust and fear, and attempted a small smile.

"Good girl," he said jovially, pulling her close.

"I'll have you know," he started after a few minutes of silence. "That I think you shouldn't try what you're planning."

Sophie remained silent.

Edward continued, speaking as if he was musing on a silly story. "Why, there would really be no point. All you see here," he waved towards her family, the mansion, Howl. "I can take it away quicker than you can say 'I do'." He leaned his forehead against hers, smiling widely.

Sophie smiled in response. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Edward. Why would you need to take anything away? You're all I have"

She shivered as she felt his chuckle reverberate on her skin. "Think we're a clever girl, do we Sophie. Well, we'll just see."

The band began to play slower, indicating the end of the song. Edward made to lead her off the dance floor, when a man approached them. "Might I cut in?" he asked, in a pleasant voice. Sophie turned to look, pleasantly discovering that it was the Wizard Suliman.

There was a moment's pause, before Edward said, "Certainly." He bowed her away gracefully, and Suliman whisked her away into the next song.

"Hello there Miss Hatter," Suliman smiled. "I've been meaning to get a word with you."

"Yes, as have I. I'm sorry, it's just been so...busy," she finished lamely. The lights blurred about as they whirled in a fast waltz.

"Hm. I've everyone you've asked to..._visit_...for your wedding at my home. We are, though, a bit curious as to what entity we are helping you and Calcifer fight?"

Sophie sighed. "I wish I could say, but I am gravely limited in speech." She raised her eyebrows on 'speech'.

Suliman's eyes widened slightly. "Ah, I see now. I had not noticed...I shall tell them." He danced her farther and farther away from people. "What day should we be prepared?"

"My wedding," Sophie replied immediately. Calcifer and she had decided it would be best to 'fulfill' the contract, before launching anything. "All of you are invited, of course. All will be clear to you then..."

Suliman hummed. "There is not a lot to go on, Sophie."

"I know," she sighed frustratedly. "Just, as soon as you see anyone shooting sparks at me, everyone must stand in defence."

Suliman's face grew tired and serious. "As much as it pains me to be unaware of the danger I and the others will be facing, I will take your word for it. After all, I am indebted to you. And," his voice grew angry. "I have a feeling, now that I think of it, _who_ this danger is."

"Please keep it to yourself for now," Sophie pleaded suddenly. If he suspected Edward and acted out of turn...all would be ruined. "You cannot tell anyone, and especially _not_ Howl."

His brow furrowed, and he nodded. His response, however, Sophie would never know.

"May I steal this lovely woman from you, old friend?" Howl suddenly appeared at their side, a friendly smile gracing his features.

Suliman laughed, and Sophie could tell he was forcing it after their rather grave conversation. "Could I deny you, Pendragon? Take good care of her." He winked at Sophie, and strode off.

Howl smoothly slid into place, his hands alighting on her hand waist as if they were meant to. "I'm glad you were able to change out of that rather...large dress. You look happier."

She smiled, looking down. "I suppose so. It was not exactly sewn for delight."

"Hm," he hummed. "The green is quite nice on you."

"Ahm, thank you," she said. While she was indeed delighting in his company, she could now feel two holes burning into her back. Two evil-fiance shaped holes. She remained straight, so she would not lean into her dance partner.

"Are you enjoying the reception?" she asked politely.

Howl was staring off into the distance behind her, his green eyes vacant. "It is quite nice. I am happy for Michael, and your sister."

The song they danced to was slow, a dance one would sway to. They stood in a corner, swaying in a circle.

"Sophie," he began abruptly. "I need to talk to you."

She looked up at him, mouth twisting in confusion. "Alright, talk to me."

He shook his head. "No, not here. I don't want to be...let's find another place."

Sophie looked at him carefully now. His face was still a bit pale, but he did seem to be a bit better. "Okay Howl." She took his hand, and began to walk towards the terrace, into the house.

His hand felt cool.

As she started up the terrace steps, she was tugged back. Looking down, she saw Howl looking out into the crowd, not moving. "Howl?" she asked softly.

He let go of her hand, and turned towards her. "I have to go," he said. His eyes were sharp. "Sophie..." he started, but stopped, shaking his head. He rushed into the crowd.

Her eyes followed him as he wove through the dancers and minglers, up to where he stopped at the very edge of the tent. The very edge of the tent where a girl stood. A girl with dark, flowing hair, dressed in red. A red carnation was tucked behind her ear. She watched Howl pluck the flower from her hair and smell it, smiling. She watched him take the girl's hand and kiss it. She watched the girl blush in delight.

Feeling sick, she turned and fled into the house.

* * *

"Sophie? Sophie were are you?"

Huddled over a cup of tea, Sophie heard a voice float into the kitchen.

"Sophie? They want to start the speeches, and the cake's already been cut."

With a sigh, she scraped her chair back and stood up.

"Coming," she called.

As she made her way back to the main hall, she found Lettie, looking for her.

"There you are." Her sister came over and touched her shoulder. "Very nice, you look much better...but, are you feeling alright Sophie?" Lettie's dark brows furrowed delicately into a frown.

"Yes," said Sophie. "Yes, I'm fine."

–

She tapped her glass, standing from her seat. "After Mother's wonderful account of Martha's childhood _events,_" Sophie started, pausing as the crowd laughed in remembrance of Fanny's stories. "I believe I get to say a few embarrassing stories of my own."

Martha groaned playfully.

"Ah yes. How you and Lettie used to _fight_! I suppose I won't need to have any children now, after the experience I had with you two."

More scattered laughter.

"However, I'm sure you've had enough of hearing about our lives as children. While that is all well and good, Martha, you are no longer that little girl, with her hair curled like a doll and the worst mouth I'd ever heard."

Martha smiled, reaching a hand over to hold Michael's.

"You've grown so beautifully, and I'm sure that if Papa was here today, he'd tell you how proud he was. I know it. _I _am so proud of you. I'd always knew you'd follow your dream. And because you did, you met Michael here," Sophie grinned.

"Why, I'm sure that I was just as surprised as Mrs. Fairfax to find out that you and Lettie had switched! All for the best though. I can't tell you how many times I found Michael's special box full of your letters."

Michael ducked his head, embarrassed.

"Though we've all experienced a bit of magic these past few months, the magic between you two isn't something you'd find in a spell book. I'm sure I don't have to say it myself, but I will say that this magic is the kind that will find you two sitting together, hand in hand, comparing each others new wrinkles in many years time."

Martha was wiping tears from under her eyes, and Sophie found herself almost near to doing the same.

"To Michael and Martha!" she finished. "May they live long and well."

She looked about for Howl as she sat down, but he was no where to be seen.

"Lovely, darling," Edward said, patting her thigh under the table.

A tear escaped, and whether or not it was from her speech she could not tell.

* * *

**AN:  
PLEASE READ!**

**1. A bit short, but it's there!**  
**Honestly, I just want to finish this bloody story. I'm so tired of it. RELEASE YOURSELF FROM MY BRAIN.**

**2. As a kind of motivator for myself, I was thinking of _letting you guys know my tumblr_? That way I can release little updates on progress, as well as teasers. I'm putting up a poll, let me know what you want!**

**3. I also read some of the earlier chapters of this story, and I am so so sorry if everything seems kind of inconsistent. I try to make it a straight line. ;A;**

**4. Anyway, reviews! Your reviews make these chapters come out faster/tell me not to do my coursework. :'D**  
**Speaking of reviews, I won't be able to reply as much, due to my heavy workload at college (which is going fantastically! Thanks for everyone's kind words from when I was bitching about how lonely I was. Haha). BUT I READ EVERY REVIEW. AND I LOVE THEM ALL. You guys are awesome.**

**5. REVIEW PLEASE (:**


	26. Chapter 26

**AN:  
600+ reviews guys? I fucking love you all.**

**More at the bottom, you know it. **

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 26: In Which Sophie Returns (In a Way)**

The stars twinkled down as party guests left the mansion, their laughter trailing behind them. The air was still sweet with the smell of the many flowers and of the wine that flowed all night, and it carried in the wind that ruffled Sophie's unraveled curls.

Michael and Martha had left for their honeymoon near an hour ago, laughing with red cheeks as Michael carried his bride into their carriage. Showered with rice and flowers, the two soon saw their way down the drive, the back of the carriage trailing with colorful streamers.

The party continued on well without them, what with Fanny's gracious husband providing a bounty of wine for the guests that continued to flow even as the guests trickled out, and only a few couples remained in the garden. Couches had been laid out inside the tent for those who had a bit too much to drink, and outside fire pits were placed here and there, even though the night was still warm.

Sophie was out in the garden, burlap sac in hand. Though the maids protested, she'd insisted on helping clean up. And how she'd insisted, with her cheeks and nose a telling red. They gave her the sac, and left her alone. There were glasses and plates and napkins scattered all about, even though the party had been held within the tent for the most part. Party streamers and flowerless stems lay forgotten in the dark grass.

Cleaning had always made Sophie feel better. Anything that was methodical and safe made her feel better. And did she ever have a reason for seeking comfort, after Edward's display earlier.

She picked up a fallen wine glass, eyeing the edge rimmed with pink lipstick. A bright gibbous moon shone bright off of it.

Edward had left the party before the bride and groom did. One of his footmen had appeared at his shoulder after the speeches and the cake, whispering in his ear quite urgently. Edward unlinked his arm from where he'd tucked Sophie's through and stood from his chair. With a few strides, he made his way to Michael and Martha, executing a smart bow and murmuring a few words. From what Sophie could see from her chair, her sister and new brother nodded, smiling back uncertainly before Edward returned to her. She watched him loom closer, his lazy smile turning into a smirk.

"Goodbye darling," he'd said. And then he'd swept her up from his chair, pressing her close in a kiss that smashed her lips hard against her teeth. She pressed her hands against him, trying to push away, but he only held on, before dropping her back in her seat. Brow furrowed, face flustered, she opened her mouth to tell him a few choice words before the look on his face stilled her tongue.

His eyes were dark. They threatened.

Her mouth closed, and she settled back into her chair.

"Be good now." He tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

She smiled benignly in return, all the while forcing her fury to her eyes. He nodded in acknowledgment, but they both knew he'd won. Everyone had seen a passionate kiss. And that's all they would see.

Edward turned on his heel and faded into the darkness, his footman following after him. The blush on her cheeks had yet to fade, and they became redder with fury and embarrassment because everyone would think her red with love.

_Pah,_ she mentally spat. _I've just about had it to here._

She'd returned to her cake, but not before catching Lettie's worried glance from where she sat across from Sophie. She shook her head, and cut into her cake with her fork, even though the thought of eating made her feel ill.

It was a small relief that she'd been spared Howl's presence in that moment.

Howl had reappeared for the speeches, amusing the crowd with stories of Michael's childhood that Michael had not been aware Howl knew of. Martha had patted Michael's hand lovingly as his face grew an interesting shade of lobster.

Sophie watched Howl's mouth move across his white teeth, longing and anger curling in the bottom of her belly like hot smoke. She watched him bow, raise his glass, and as the next speaker rose, watched him fade away into the garden.

She had then proceeded to drink a lot more wine than she was used to.

And now she stood, her burlap sac clinking behind her, her knees wobbling slightly as did the wine glass that she held firmly in one hand. She placed it into the sac. At this point, she was sure she'd cleaned a good part of the garden. A proud smile crept on her face.

She'd arrived at one of her favorite parts of the garden, a maze of tall bushes that hid little tea tables and boasted an oriental gazebo at its center. It was one of Fanny's newest additions, and when Sophie had come home from her rather traumatic trip, she'd found solace in the maze. She spent as much time as she could at its center, planning.

She entered it now, sac clinking behind her. Her hand automatically reached out to brush the broad hedge leaves as she passed them, making the shrubbery rustle. Above, the night sky had deepened to an infinitely dark blue, and clusters of stars scattered their reflections on her irises. Clink, clink. She brought her hand back to her mouth, where it felt swollen from being scraped across her teeth, swollen from the red wine she'd poured inside her. The more she'd had, the more she felt like it was cascading over her heart, cleansing it.

Or so she'd thought.

_First right, then left, then right. Then all lefts._

She turned the first right, and that's when she heard the voices.

"Is there anything else I can give you?"

A voice she knew all too well, and it rumbled its question. Sophie stopped dead in her tracks, sac bumping down against her leg.

"You know what I want," said another voice, a softer, higher one. She heard the rustle of clothing.

"No, Maria. I could give you anything, but not that."

Sophie's brow furrowed, and she abandoned her sac as she crept forward, her skirts dragging silently in the grass.

There was a sigh. "I know. I know, you told me as much."

"I will see your father as planned. The news will bring him much joy."

The hedge in front of her turned left and right. The leaves were fuzzy to her eyes, but she could not tell if it was the dark or the drink affecting her.

"And you, you're happy?" The high voice was sultry to Sophie's ears, and she cursed it.

"I will be," came Howl's reply.

"Could I just..." The woman trailed off.

Silence filled the darkness.

"Just once? For good luck? That's all I ask."

Sophie crept further, coming to the T in the road. The voices were to the right. _Wrong way_, Sophie thought waspishly.

"I don't think—"

As Howl's voice stopped, Sophie rounded the corner to come face to face with Howl and the girl in the red dress. His face was clasped in her hands as she kissed him fiercely, his own hands covering hers.

Sophie stumbled back a step, shocked. It was one thing to know Howl had moved on, but it was another to see it. Now she knew how Howl felt whenever she was with Edward.

It wasn't fair.

The girl released Howl, and stepped down from where she'd been teetering on her tippy toes.

"For luck," she whispered.

Sophie whirled around and fled, blindly fleeing further into the maze.

"Sophie!"

She paused as Howl cried out her name, but shook her head and continued. _Right, left left left left. _

"Left," she gasped aloud, though it was more of a sob, and she stumbled on her skirts, falling to her knees in the grass.

She gulped for air, gripping into the dirt with her hands, desperately sucking in breath to hold back her tears.

"Left," she whispered nonsensically. Her head spun.

–

She had tilted her head all the way back so she could stare at the stars, and it seemed like an age had passed when she saw a light illuminate the leaves in front of her. Footsteps accompanied it. She didn't move.

"Sophie. What are you doing?"

"Left," she said, feeling her throat moving against the stretched skin of her neck.

The light disappeared, and she felt the brush of fabric against her shoulder as the owner of the voice stepped in front of her. There was a whoosh of air. Sophie assumed they'd sat where they stood.

"Sophie, look at me." The voice commanded her. But the stars, they were so pretty. So far away. She wished she could turn into a star and join them, and they'd all dance across the sky with the moon.

A finger placed itself on her jutted chin and pressed down. She let her head droop. _Goodbye stars_. Another finger joined the one one her chin and lifted her face. Her eyes struggled to focus on the person crouched in front of her, but at last a pair of very green eyes came into view.

"You're drunk," stated Howl matter-of-factly.

"I most definitely not," she mumbled, feeling like the fingers holding her chin as on obstacle for speech.

"You most definitely not?" He let out a chuckle and his warm breath washed over her face.

She didn't like the touch of his fingers, because it meant he was too close and now all she had to do was lean forward and his lips would be all the closer. And she didn't want to kiss him. She didn't want to taste that woman on him, the woman in red. She'd hate that color forever.

"I'll have to cut off all my hair," she mused out loud.

"You what?" No chuckle accompanied this question, but the grip on her chin tightened.

"Don' touch me," she grumbled, swatting his hand away. She needed to leave, she needed to be away from him, because he'd ruin it if she stayed any longer.

Sophie struggled to her feet, but her right leg had fallen asleep and she stumbled forward.

"Come," said Howl, who was somehow already standing in front of her, gripping her forearms. "I'll take you home."

She peered at him, feeling too dizzy, and wrenched herself back, nearly falling again. Sharp pricks in her right leg informed her that her blood flow was returning to normal and she winced.

"You," she pointed a finger at him, ignoring how it shook. "Stay away."

"I believe we've gone through this part already, Sophie dear." Howl's voice was soft. Sophie shook her head, bringing her hands to her ears.

"No! I don' wan' to hear it, just leave me be!"

Warm hands gripped her arms once again.

"Go!" she shouted. "Go be with that girl." She tried to free herself once more, but the grip was tighter.

"I don't think you have a right to be jealous, Sophie," Howl growled. "Unless you have something you wish to tell me?"

She shook her head, leaning back into the hedge she'd backed into. "You don'...you don' know it. You are...you will always be with a woman, eating their hearts."

"I believe we've gotten to that part as well, and we're well past it too, Sophie." He stepped forward, and his immediate warmth made her realize how cold she was getting.

"I'll take you home," he said again, but he didn't move except to release her arms.

Sophie shook her head.

"Your mother will worry," he tried.

"To hell with Fanny," Sophie stated. "Look," she waved one freed arm lazily in the air. "I'm sure you have a lot of things to do with...with that girl and so don' bother about me. And, and I'm nearly married, so this is highly improper Mr. Wizard Jenkins sir." Her hand landed in the middle of his chest.

"So," she finished up. "Please take your leave."

"Improper?" Howl spat out the word. "Why..." He trailed off. He stepped back. Her hand slid down into nothing.

"I will leave you, if you answer me this one question."

Sophie shivered, and nodded. "Go on."

"Do you love him? Do you truly love him?"

"That's two questions," she quipped.

"Just answer the bloody question!" he roared, and Sophie pressed back against the bush in fright. He shook his head, pressing a palm to his brow. "Just answer the question," he whispered.

"I..." _I love you_ she thought. "I love..."

An image of Howl, his magic, his soul rushing out of him and into Edward, came unbidden across her mind.

"I love him," she sighed. "I love Edward."

She saw his neck move as he swallowed.

"Well. Well then. I shall take my leave. Good evening, Miss Hatter."

There was a rush of air, and he disappeared.

Sophie stood, her hands clenching and unclenching as she stared at where he had once stood. She stared for a long time before she moved again.

* * *

She woke up to aching knees. With a groan, she peeled her cheek off of whatever it was pressed on, and squinted at the light coming into the room. Looking down, her eyes met with her toilet and the unpleasant mixture of toilet water and half digested cake within it. Her stomach roiled.

Clutching her middle, she unsteadily creaked to her feet and stumbled out of her bathroom, only to stumble back in to disgorge the rest of the previous night's dinner.

Not long after, she reemerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her and her hair wet from the shower. The light that shone brightly through her terrace doors made her squint in pain. As she passed her desk she rang her servant bell, glad for once that she had one.

As she was slipping on underclothes inside the semi-darkness of her closet, a knock and a "Can I help you Miss Sophie?" came from the door.

She sidled over, hair swinging wetly against her back. She opened the door to see her maid Lucy, standing prim in her starched uniform.

"Good morning Lucy," Sophie said, pressing a hand to her forehead tiredly. "Could you please bring me some chamomile tea with ginger?"

"Yes ma'am. Will you be needing anything else?"

"No, that's all. Thank you."

"Right away, ma'am." Lucy bobbed, and Sophie shut the door, pressing her palm to the space in between the door and the opening. Her hair was soaking her undershirt.

Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath, before returning to her closet.

Memories of last night flickered in her mind as she flicked clothes on the rack, but she pushed them aside as she pushed aside each dress.

* * *

The last time she made her way to Mrs. Fairfax's house, she'd rode on her cane. Now that her cane was somewhere she could not remember and Fanny would not allow her to travel otherwise, she would take the carriage.

She hadn't realized how close Mrs. Fairfax actually was, but in all fairness she wasn't exactly thinking clearly that night.

The carriage ride was pleasant. She'd insisted on taking a chaise, as the day was so fine. The packets of seeds lay in a basket by her feet. She told Fanny she was bringing Mrs. Fairfax a specimen of flower for her bees. What she did not tell Fanny about was the small purse that hidden in her pocket, two golden rings clanking inside, nor did she tell her about the papers tucked under the basket's undercloth.

As she pulled up to the house, Mrs. Fairfax came out the open front door, a smile on her wide face.

In a flurry of skirts, Sophie rushed off of the chaise as soon as it stopped and ran into Mrs. Fairfax's arms. The comforting smell of baking and honey filled her nose as Mrs. Fairfax's arms enclosed around her.

"Alright, Sophie?"

"Hello, Mrs. Fairfax." She pulled back with a grin. "I've got a present for you.

* * *

"Are these they?"

The basket lay forgotten on the kitchen counter, its contents long since removed. Two empty mugs sat next to them, still scented with remnants of tea.

"Yes," said Sophie, the rings in her open palm clinking together. "They're pure gold, and were boiled in rowan tea. The diagrams I've given you will help focus the spell. Will you be able to finish by the wedding?"

They were seated on stools in the kitchen, a large hefty table before them.

"Might I suggest a circle surrounding this pentagram?" Mrs. Fairfax placed a fair finger on the crinkly parchment. "It will help contain the magic further, especially since the rings themselves are circular. Like and like."

Sophie frowned, tapping her lip. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Haven't you shown anyone else these?"

"No," Sophie shook her head. "Too risky."

"Ah, yes," Mrs. Fairfax sighed, and shifted from where she looked down at the papers to looking at Sophie. "I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

"I wish I could," Sophie bit her lip. "But, I can't."

"You know, the last time you were here, you were in a bit of trouble?" There was no smile on Mrs. Fairfax's face.

Sophie only looked at her.

"Why, I have the book you took from my library still shivering from the spell you used."

At that, Sophie's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "I...I mean, you must know that I..."

"It's quite alright dear." The woman shifted in her chair, fixing her skirts. "And I bet the trouble you were in has to do with the trouble you're in now?"

Shiftily, Sophie nodded.

A slight frown etched itself at the edges of Mrs. Fairfax's lips. "Sophie, you must realize that every use of magic, especially big magic, comes with a price. Like the pull and push of the ocean, there is always give and take."

She felt her jaw clench nervously. "I...hadn't realized."

"Take the Witch of the Waste, for example. You saw what happened to her." Mrs. Fairfax exhaled noisily. "Such promise, and the woman ignored the most important rule in magic."

"How...how do I pay the price back?" asked Sophie, tugging at the end of her sleeve. She did some rather big magic, back when she performed Mrs. Fairfax's spell.

"Well, it's big magic, big spells you ought to worry about, and it all has to do with intent. Take a look at the spell you used. Now, the inventor of that spell intended for it be used on those with negative intention. Poor witch hated this lad, but still loved them too much to do much harm to him. She used her hate. Not a great spell for most anymore, as hate fuels it much better."

Sophie swallowed hard. That would explain why the locket wasn't as effective as she'd tried to make it.

"If you put out negative, you get negative, and same's the opposite. Such and such. That's the price you pay."

"Ah," Sophie managed, after a moment of silence.

"Well then. I'm glad that at least this time, you've asked for help with this spell instead of doing this all yourself. Silly dear." With a groan, she slipped offer her stool and landed with a loud thump on the tiled kitchen floor. She gathered the papers, shuffling them into a neat pile and tapping them twice against the table.

"I'll take a look at these, make sure that they're secure. You said you wanted the Witch of the Waste's old castle?"

Sophie slid off her own seat to stand at her friend's elbow.

"Yes that's right. Thank you so very much, for everything. And...I'm sorry about the book."

"Not to worry dear, that old thing is such a temperamental one. I'll let you know once I've finished with the rings. And thank you for the seeds dear, purple honey sounds delightful. I'll have to experiment on its affects on my spells..." Her voice drifted off as Mrs. Fairfax walked further into the house, leaving Sophie in the kitchen.

With a satisfied smile, Sophie gathered her basket and stepped outside.

* * *

"Miss Sophie? The Wizard Suliman, here to see you."

Sophie looked up from her seat in the indoor green house, the book in her lap lying closed.

"Yes. Please see him to the parlor?"

"Yes ma'am." The butler bowed, shutting the door behind him.

The bench was seated in a patch of sunlight, and Sophie shook her head to dispel the warm drowsiness that she was basking in earlier.

When she arrived at the parlor door, Suliman was seated. A tray of tea things was already placed on the table, and he was pouring tea into two cups. As she entered the room, Suliman looked up and placed the pot down, standing up to greet her.

"Miss Hatter, a pleasure. I hope I wasn't too late?"

"Please, call me Sophie." She waved for him to sit, and took the seat near him, angling herself towards the fireplace. "You're early, actually. Calcifer will arrive any moment."

Suliman picked up the pot again, and finished pouring the second cup. "Miss Sophie," he relented, with a smile. "Sugar?"

Sophie shook her head, and accepted the cup he handed to her. "I really should be serving you. Fanny will think my manners in grave danger, and what with me getting married soon."

Suliman was a big man, and Sophie felt a smile quirk up as he held the tea saucer delicately between his two large hands.

"Married indeed. The topic of our discussion, as I understand. I got your missive this morning. I was surprised you'd call so quickly."

"We haven't much time, and I realized that informing you the day of the wedding would not have been conducive," Sophie stated, placing her cup on her lap.

"Ah, yes. Very good. Do you mind?" He waved a hand about the room.

Sophie looked at him, her brow turning slightly in confusion.

"Security spells."

"Ah," Sophie nodded. "Yes of course. Please go ahead."

Suliman stood up after depositing his tea cup on the table. He waved one hand in the direction of the windows and doors, and then sat down.

"That's it?" asked Sophie.

"Essentially. I'll finish it once Calcifer arrives."

As if summoned, a loud zipping sound followed Suliman's words, and a small ball of fire appeared in the fireplace. It was glowing a deep, dark red.

"Calcifer?"

Two blue eyes rolled up from underneath the roll of fire, and a small arm poked out the side, waving.

"Here I am," he said, almost inaudibly.

Sophie leaned forwards, nearly sitting off of her chair. "Calcifer, are you alright?"

"Yea, yea," he mumbled, and seemed to make a visible effort to perk up. His voice was just a bit louder. "So, let's do this."

Sophie gave him another worried look. "Right..."

Suliman interrupted by clapping his hands loud, once. "Righto, security spells are all set. I'm ready when you are."

She cleared her throat, setting herself back properly on the chair.

"Okay then. Right, so the plan is, I'm going to disappear from the alter with Edward."

Suliman's eyes widened. Calcifer only spat a spark into the air, feigning boredom.

"I want us to get away from the guests. We'll end up in the Witch of the Waste's old castle. As soon as we are gone, and I mean _both _of us, have everyone we've assembled be ready to teleport there immediately."

She drew out a piece of paper from the book she'd carried into the parlor.

"Here are the schematics of that particular spell, if anyone need know it." She handed it to Suliman, who took it in his hands and studied it seriously, some of his thoughts coming out in incoherent mumbles.

After a moment, he tucked it into his inner coat pocket.

"Right. So, when we are all there, we will have landed on a binding circle. When you all arrive, arrange yourself as quick as possible," Sophie handed him another sheet of paper. "And begin the binding spell. Edward is..." Her throat closed up, and she choked.

Suliman gave her a knowing look, before glancing at the paper, nodding. "Might I suggest something? There should be an extra angle in this part of the spell pictogram. It will enforce the containment."

Sophie bit her lower lip in thought, reaching into her pocket for the pencil stub she usually kept. She handed it over to Suliman, who awkwardly pinched it with his fingers before putting it to the paper.

As he went over it, Sophie continued. "Calcifer and I will take over from there. Needless to say, I can't exactly tell you what we'll be doing, suffice that you will have helped us all greatly."

Suliman nodded over the paper. "This will give everyone a better idea of what to do. I am glad that you decided to divulge this earlier."

"Be sure to be armed," came a small voice. They looked to Calcifer. "It won't be easy."

* * *

As Sophie watched Suliman ride his horse down the drive and out of side, she could feel a bit of her old self coming back. A thin smile stretched over her face, and as she turned into the house, she finally let herself think of Howl.

* * *

**AN:**

**Dudes. I. Love. You. All. If it weren't for all of your reviews, this might not have taken the bargain length of three months (I know, it's still bad) to update.**

**Finals this semester...never have I studied so hard ever.**

**And I love all your reviews. I do. In fact, the one that honestly made me cry a little (not with joy) helped get this baby on the internet.**

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	27. Chapter 27

__**AN: It's a bit short, but it's the way it needs to be for story progression.**

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 27: In Which a Story is Told**

Suffice to say, the days approaching the wedding were some of the most anxious days Sophie had ever experienced. Of course, confiding in Suliman had taken a measure of pressure off of her shoulders but until the wedding arrived, she still had to continue the charade with Atkin. And unlike before, he was now insistent on her participation, on their constant companionship. Sophie had to plaster on a smile as he dragged her from office to office, dress tailor to florist, pattisserie to their choice of wedding venue (or rather his) for the ceremony and reception.

That's where they were now, at this pretty English tea garden meant for the reception party, inspecting it for any faults they might have missed on their last visit. Or so Atkin had said. It was the first time Sophie had seen the place, but she forced herself to properly inspect the garden with intense interest as her husband to be spouted some nonsense to the proprietor of the gardens about how Sophie had had her heart set on this place ever since she was a little girl. She nearly broke the stem off of the flower she was pretending to inhale as the words flouted charmingly out of his mouth.

"Sophie, darling?"

She winced imperceptively, her back straightening as she adjusted the hold she had on her parasol. Atkin wrapped his arm around her waist lightly when she drifted to his side.

"Belkin old chap wishes to know if the pink décor would still be to your satisfaction. Many brides have changed their minds, but I've told him pink was absolutely what you wanted. I thought you might like to confirm your wishes?"

Pink. She'd never agreed to do anything in that color, but as far as this wedding was concerned, there was little that she had agreed to.

"Yes of course," she simpered accordingly. "Pink is what I want."

The reward pat on her waist made her fingers tighten their hold on the parasol handle.

The middle aged proprietor gave them, or rather Atkin, a nervous smile.

"I am glad. Ah, I am afraid that I now must return to my duties, but if the lady and gentleman wish to take their tea?"

A hand gestured to their public garden space nearer to the main grounds building and outfitted with curled iron chairs, seated delicately on a patio with a few other tea takers.

Sophie, ready to demur his offer with a polite murmur, found her person being firmly directed towards the tea patio.

"Yes, we'll take just a light tea. Darling is so worried about keeping thin for her dress," Atkin said with a laugh. The proprietor scurried ahead of them with a nod.

"Isn't that right, darling?" Atkin said more softly, turning his lazy gaze downwards to Sophie.

Her smile had faded.

"Yes, of course," she replied scathingly this time. The gravel crunched underneath their shoes. Her ankle wobbled slightly as her heel placed down on a lumpy piece of ground, and she felt Atkin pull her closer as she swayed off balance.

"Are you alright?"

Normally a caring statement, Sophie could tell that Atkin was mocking her and her discomfort with fashionable foot wear.

"Yes, of course," she repeated.

The sound of wordless chatter and clatter of spoons on porcelain became clearer as the patio came closer. Atkin removed his arm from around her waist and had placed her own more respectively on his forearm. Sunlight glinted off of the polished silverware that awaited them on a table currently being set for two. Sophie allowed Atkin to pull out a chair for her, and a server took her parasol.

They were silent as tea things were placed in front of them, clinking lightly against each other as they were placed on the checkered table cloth. Another server shuffled over with a standing umbrella, angling it over their table so that they were comfortably shaded. Sophie watched as Atkin smoothly tipped them with a few coins as another man finished pouring their tea.

As they were left alone, she reached out to her cup, a gloved finger trailing on the thin porcelain handle before she picked it up.

"What a lovely day," her companion said jovially, little sandwiches being arranged artfully on his plate.

"Mm," she agreed, more focused on sipping her tea so that she wouldn't burn her tongue. Respectable tea places served the tea at the right temperature supposedly, but you never knew if they would decide to surprise you.

It was lukewarm. Lovely.

"It is alright if you partake in a cookie or two. I'm sure your figure would not be altered."

Sophie looked up over the rim of her cup as she sipped, noting the smug look that shone in his dark, lidded eyes.

"Oh, if that's the case then," she said amiably, and took a stack of about five to tumble in crumbs on her plate. And proceeded to eat them exaggerated propriety.

She heard a sigh at her antics. She gently brushed crumbs off of her gloved fingers onto the plate, and took a delicate sip of tea. When she was done, she gave her fiance a glance, noting his empty plate and empty smile.

She sighed, scrunching the napkin in her lap.

"Why are you doing this?" she murmured, the faint tinkling of china and buzz of background conversations leaving the question for Atkin's ears alone.

He looked at her through his familiar lidded gaze, his chin resting lazily on a propped hand.

"I don't believe that subject is quite appropriate for tea," he answered wanely, using his free hand to stir his tea meditatively.

Sophie narrowed her eyes.

"And why not? I would think this is the best time. If you tell me something unsavory, which you most likely will, I would be unable to strangle you with the tablecloth. It wouldn't do to bring question to _our_ reputation."

"Hm," he hummed. "You make a point, my darling. But why do you think I have a care for _our_ reputation?"

With a scowl, she opened her mouth to relay a scathing remark, but he continued.

"Very well. You would enjoy the irony of my story, and I would enjoy the irony of you knowing it."

He sipped his tea.

Sophie tried not to look too excited and gripped her fingers tightly in her lap.

He placed his cup down onto its saucer with a delicate clink.

"I want something from you first," he said.

She blinked, thrown off by the unexpectedness of his request. He quirked an eyebrow.

"No need to be afraid," he cajoled her, seemingly mistaking her silence for fear.

"What is it you want," she managed to say, trepidation trembling through her fingers.

"Just your word," he smiled. "To never repeat this tale."

She bit her lip furiously. Was it worth it to have the knowledge, but be unable to use it? She supposed it wouldn't entirely matter that she had to keep it to herself. He was still going to carry through with whatever he was planning. She would just be able to plan better, knowing his motivation.

She nodded, and his grin widened fractionally. Immediately, she felt a rush of magic brush her skin and leave an unpleasant tingling that made the hairs on her neck stand straight.

"Perfect." He leaned back in his chair, and she felt his legs stretch out on either side of her.

"You recall my regret having to put you through such taxing events?"

She nodded, shortly. He had mentioned something similar during her time at his villa.

He hummed, pleased. "Of course, I was not lying. I do regret that you were to be the one such plans would enfold. But plans I had. After you hear my story, I am sure you would be grateful I freed you from the arms of that wizard."

Sophie highly doubted it.

"It was five years ago, and I was just eighteen years old. My family had just moved into Kingsbury, my father's company granted a royal charter. Being apprenticed to the company, I was in the midst of many exciting developments. We were in charge of many royal events and had access to all sorts of lovely things. The finest silk tablecloths from Zanzib, the lightest wool tapestries from Strangia, the prime wine from High Norland, the talented artists from Montalbino. I was surrounded by luxury, surrounded by wealth and opportunity.

"There was one thing that was more important to me than all of this, than my status at court or the apprenticeship I held. Her name was Annabelle."

His eyes shuttered, and she noticed the way his shoulders had curved in towards his body.

"She was beautiful. One of the only female acrobats from Montalbino, she became quite famous in her own right. Seeing her dance so gracefully on the tight wire, laughing without care despite the deadly drop beneath her, it was enough for any one to fall in love with her immediately. I was not the case.

"I thought a woman had no right in displaying her body in a such a way. Though she was two years older than I, I treated her as my subordinate, because I had the power to bring employ to her. Being in charge of the entertainment for many events, I manipulated it so that her troupe would not act, or so that she would not get the chance to perform. I attended their practices, and watched her. I told them she was not, that they were not an adequate performance for my events."

Sophie's lip curled slightly. Of course he was already suppressing women at a young age.

"Despite my attempts, word of her prowess still spread, and soon the King demanded of my father for the troupe to perform for his newly wedded wife. There was nothing I could do."

A small smile flitted across his face, one free of arrogance or darkness. Sophie narrowed her eyes, and Edward opened his to lean forward, picking up his tea cup.

"The night of her performance, she was splendid. The entire court was enthralled, and that was the night I became aware of the reason why I did not want anyone to see her. I wanted to be the only one to see her. The realization shocked me. At the night's end, I went to her dressing room. Her performance had moved me so, that I felt the need to apologize for holding her back, for keeping her talent hidden.

"I thought she would refuse to see me, but she didn't. She sat there, smiling in her silk dressing gown. Or rather, she smirked at me. I was helpless before her, and it was to my greatest surprise when she accepted my invitation to dinner for the following week.

"We were happy. Despite our age difference, we meshed well, and it was not long before I could not picture life without her."

He set the tea cup down, and raised his gaze to hers. His eyes burned fiercely, and Sophie flinched backwards.

"And then, _he_ came along. _He, _with his superfluous garments and perfect speech. He had the _gall_ to interrupt one of our dinners, even if all he wished to do was pay compliments to Annabelle's performances. And he kept coming, and despite what I told her, she did not heed my warnings of his falsity.

"And then came the night. We argued, because _he_ had asked her to see some bizarre performance by a troupe from Zanzib who were passing through. I did not want her to go, not without me. She claimed I was being paranoid, and accused me of trying to control her life.

"She left with him. And as the weeks passed, she spent more time with him than me. One night, the night that marked six months of our being together, I organized a surprise for her. A dinner out on the canal, on what was then one of the first steamboats. When she met me at the docks, she did not get on the boat. She told me she was leaving me. That I was too young for her, that I was too controlling, too rigid. That I needed to live life more, see more women. All these excuses, all these _excuses_!"

He banged his fist on the table, making the chinaware clatter.

"I could see it in her eyes, the way they couldn't meet mine. She was leaving me because of _him_, because he had _taken_ her from me! She left me, for that stupid, priggish, fake of a wizard!"

Sophie sat frozen. His eyes pierced into her as his chest heaved with anger.

"Anyway," he sighed, slumping into his chair. "After a day, I tried to see her, tried to convince her that she was making a mistake. But she refused to see me. In days, their engagement was announced. I became enraged by fury, by grief. I canceled all of their engagements our company had hired, no matter who they were for. I banned them from the court practice gyms, and quickly had their place filled by their competition. But it did not seem to do anything, and I saw her walking with him in the streets of Kingsbury, smiling.

"I gave up. I was redoing the paperwork to readmit her troupe, when word came of her fiance's disappearance. His castle was gone, his apartments in town empty. Annabelle was distraught. She hired men with what money she had to find him. She asked my father, she asked _me _to use our contacts to help her. So desperate she was, to ask even _me_! But I could never deny her, not truly. But it was to no avail. He was no where to be found, and whispers started that her love was an evil wizard, one who took innocent maids and ruined them, taking their hearts and eating them.

"He might as well have eaten Annabelle's heart. When it became apparent she would not find him, that he would never return, it was like she broke. She stopped practicing her art, she did not show up for performances. She would not eat, would not take care of herself. I took her into my home when it became apparent that she was wasting away into her apartments, but once she was in a bed, she stayed there. If she got up, it was to use the toilet, and that was all.

"I came home one night," his voice became a hoarse whisper. "And found her in the bath. The water...the water was red with her blood. And she was gone. And _he, _he didn't even bother to attend her funeral.

"I was blamed partially for her death. Though it was true that I felt I was to blame, it was not for the same reason the royal court saw. They believed that in my jealousy, my casting her out of court entertainment led to her demise, led to that man leaving her and to her death. My father's company lost the royal charter, and I was cast out from my family for my folly. When my father died soon after from sudden wasting fever, the company was left without a designated head and I was the only one who could pick up the pieces. I did not return. I let them fall to shambles, those who would not believe in me.

His voice turned hard. "And that is why I do what I do, Miss Sophie Hatter. I believe tea time is over." He raised his hand in the air without breaking his gaze with her, and flicked two fingers.

"Check, please."

* * *

Sophie sat in the middle of the garden maze, a book held open in her hand though she did not read it. Her gaze stretched out across the small gazebo into the sun brightened greenery before her. It was yesterday that she learned Edward Atkin's story, and she could not help but be affected. If she was to assume correctly, the wizard that had stolen Annabelle from Edward was Howl. And, invariably, Howl had caused a girl to kill herself.

A frustrated sigh escaped her. Did Edward really think that this made any difference in how she felt? Even though she was not there five years ago, she could see what Howl had done. He had slithered out. And she highly doubted that he did not attend her funeral. He would never have shown his face, not with the girl's death blamed upon him. He would have transformed himself.

At least, this was what Sophie told herself.

She did not want to feel sympathy for Edward Atkin. He did not deserve it. What he did deserve was a fat kick in the arse right into the royal dungeons.

A vine of morning glory curled around the support of the gazebo she sat near. It had closed it's buds, shying away into darkness as the day carried on.

"Come," Sophie murmured, holding out a curled finger gently. The vine trembled, and slowly snaked forward to caress the tip of her finger. Upon contact, the nearest buds unfurled slowly into bloom and waved softly. She relaxed into her seat, and let the vine continue to weave gently in between her fingers.

The most pressing problem now, in any case, was would this information affect her plan? She was still ready to go through with it, for in no way would she let either Howl or Calcifer die. And she knew that Howl was moving on, that she was not likely to be with him again, even if the situation was explained. There was too much damage done already.

It was the fact that Annabelle had died that shook her so greatly. Howl was moving on so easily from Sophie, someone he'd actually spent time with and had gotten to know. Someone he'd decided to give kisses and embraces to after he'd seen her in her ugliest form. Someone he no longer was with. He had another girl now. Would he drop this girl as quickly as his past conquests?

What if he caused another girl's death?

Sophie could not allow that to happen. She could not.

The vine traveled to her wrist, tickling the delicate skin.

* * *

It was like this that Michael found her. The soft click of his boots on the wood of the gazebo alerted her to his presence, and she looked up, book jostling in her grip as she jumped in surprise.

"There you are," he smiled. "The dressmaker has arrived to take the last measurements for your gown."

"Ah, I'd forgotten," she said, feeling a bit sour. She hated the dressmaker. It was like she had one goal in life, and it was to prick every single part of Sophie's body with pins.

"Go along now," she whispered to the vine, and it curled away from her hand back onto it's wooden home.

Michael sat down by her side on the bench.

"Are you alright, Sophie? You seemed quite unwell at dinner last night."

Michael and Martha had both come in for dinner, surprisingly, the night before. Though they had had a few nights to themselves, they found eating one thing they mutually preferred to do with family.

"I'm fine," Sophie responded immediately, closing the book in her hand. Michael looked at her, and she saw the heavy amount of concern in them.

She sighed.

"Sophie, if anything is the matter you can tell me. I know it has been hard, this wedding."

He was just so darn earnest, Michael. Sophie couldn't bear that she had to lie to him.

However, if she worded it right, perhaps he could assuage this fear of Howl in her heart. She turned to him, lower lip tucked into her mouth.

"Michael," she started, unsure how to bring up the topic. "Do you know...do you know if any of the girls Howl pursued...uhm...you know..."

_Died?_ She thought in her mind. The word, however would not come out. However, she hoped the disturbed look she had on her face would be adequate. Michael huffed.

"Had their hearts eaten?"

Sophie shook her head, but gestured with her hand in a way that meant he was close.

"Ah, you mean something more...serious. Well, I was quite young when he took me in, so I didn't follow his interests with much attention. Why do you ask?"

It was her turn to huff.

"It's just that, with all the girls he's ditched, surely there were more unpleasant things that happened besides infuriated aunts demanding he married their nieces?"

Her fingernails dug into the book she held.

Michael turned to fully look at her, confusion and a bit of anger simmering in his gaze.

"Honestly Sophie, why would it matter?"

"You don't think it does?"

"The contract with Calcifer made him an idiot, and now it's broken. He isn't heartless anymore. And you aren't with him anymore, and to be honest, you two aren't exactly friends anymore either. So why would it matter to you?"

Her other hand clenched as her jaw tightened. She stood up, her body rigid as the accusation behind Michael's words hit its mark. The way he completely dismissed Howl's past actions, as if the breaking of the contract solved everything, irked her. There were always consequences for actions. And she was tired of Howl being excused for everything. Everyone seemed to be drawn to him, the King, Michael, Annabelle. Herself. And for what? Why was he so special? He was vain, he was childish, he was thick and brilliant and lovely and beautiful.

The answer resonated in her heart.

"It does matter, Michael. Just because he had done something under magic's influence does not mean it did not carry any influence or consequence that might bite him back in the future. And it matters because I—!" Her words were cut off in a furious garble, as Edward's contract prevented her from saying the words her tongue was ready to spill out.

She turned on her heel and marched smartly out of the gazebo, back ramrod straight.

"Sophie!" she heard Michael call out. She ignored him, and broke into a run. Instead of following the directions that would lead her out of the maze, she turned right, going into the east side. Before she could run into the second turn, a hand reached out to grab her shoulder. Yanking herself out of the grip, she stumbled. The hand steadied her and she flushed red, propelling herself away. She turned to tell Michael to leave her well alone, only to find that it was not Michael standing next to her.

"Isn't that the wrong way?" Howl asked.

She froze momentarily. _How long had he been standing there, so near to the entrance to the gazebo? _She thought._ Had he heard?_

"I know exactly where I'm going," Sophie spat, her body still trembling with an anger that stemmed from many places.

He shrugged. "Alright then. I had just wished to prevent you from getting lost."

He began to walk away from her, and his voice trailed off as he became farther.

"I wouldn't be so heartless as to let you, you know."

_Bugger._ _He had._

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the two month wait guys. College sucks booty.**

**Also, thank you for all the supportive reviews and tumblr comments you guys have been sending! I haven't replied to all of them, but know that I keep them all in my email inbox and love them dearly. **

**I have some exams coming up, but I'll do my best to update within a month! If I do not, I will prostrate myself before you and cry and cut myself off from the best thing in the world which is cake.**

**I promise.**

**You do not understand my love for cake. So this is serious business.**

**Anyway, thank you for reading, and I hope you review! They will certainly remind me of my update promise. (:**


	28. Chapter 28

**AN: More at the bottom, but guys. Nearly 700 reviews? I love you. So much.**_  
_

_DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS BELOW TO DIANA WYNNE JONES, AUTHOR OF HOWL'S MOVING CASTLE. The fanfic is based upon the BOOK, NOT the movie._

Howl's Moving Castle: The Aftermath

**Chapter 28: In Which Time Grows Short**

"Sophie!"

She turned her gaze from Howl to see Michael running over to her. His chest heaved lightly with exertion. Focusing on swallowing the lump in her throat, Sophie brushed a hand through her tangled hair.

He skidded to a stop in front of her, his head turned slightly to glance at Howl's disappearing back before facing her.

"I'm sorry Sophie, I didn't mean to say those things like that," he panted. "It's just that...it's been..." He trailed off helplessly, and Sophie couldn't blame him. Thinking about it now, Michael never once commented on her and Howl's tumultuous relationship, and neither did he condemn either of them for their actions. It was just like him. And, Sophie realized, it must have been difficult being in between the two of them.

_Especially Howl_, Sophie thought with a fond grimace. She only hoped Michael didn't have to deal with any kind of green slime or piteous moping.

"It's alright Michael," she sighed, reaching out to lightly pat his shoulder. "I'm not exactly..." She looked back on their argument, and the worries she had unearthed still floated uncomfortably at the forefront of her mind. She sighed again instead of finishing her sentence.

Suddenly, she found herself under an arm, being cheerfully squished into a side.

"Come along then, Sophie!" Michael boomed. She looked up at his face, which was smiling brightly, if not a little awkwardly.

"Let's go get some lunch, I'm starved. Martha promised to bring along some of those new tea cakes and I can't wait to see if they're anything like the ones in Kingsbury..."

Sophie returned the smile, and let herself be dragged away from her worries for the afternoon as Michael chattered away.

* * *

It was late at night, and Calcifer was flickering faintly in her room's fireplace. It was hot and stuffy in the room, but Sophie didn't dare to open any windows or doors.

"So that's why Atkin's after Howl?" Calcifer's voice was low, tired.

"Yes," Sophie rubbed her forehead furiously. "And honestly, it threw me off balance, Calcifer. I nearly ripped Michael's head off today about it."

"I don't remember an Annabelle," Calcifer said thoughtfully. "But it sounds like the girl was a bit overly obsessed to me."

Sophie panned a glare at him. "If you love someone, there is little you wouldn't do for them." _Such as pretend to get married to a sociopath_, she thought bitterly.

He shrugged his tiny shoulders.

"What could he have gained from telling me this? That is mostly what I cannot understand," groaned Sophie.

Calcifer flickered green for a second, before settling back into the dark red color that was now his daily appearance. "He's been acting more strange as your wedding approaches. When he summons me, he sits as far away from me as possible and tells me stupid things about all the annoying people he talks to. It's boring."

Sophie cast him a worried glance. "And you, are you okay? You aren't looking well," she murmured.

He shrugged his tiny shoulders again.

"He's still taking magic from me. We won't have much time left."

Sophie placed the tips of her fingers on the hearth in a gesture of comfort.

"Only two more days," she said. "Do you think you will be able to go through with the plan?"

He made what she thought was a nod.

"I think I'll stay in your fireplace until then, if that's okay."

Sophie nodded, and stood to place a small pile of firewood next to him, within a spark's reach.

"Goodnight then, Calcifer."

"Night, Sophie."

She stepped across the floorboards to her bed, and slipped under the cool sheets.

_Only two more days._

The words reverberated in her head, following her into her dreams.

* * *

It was the day before the wedding, and the dress was being fitted one last time. Sophie stood in Fanny's room as the mirrors were bigger (she'd insisted, as Calcifer was snoozing in her own room), being tucked into one of the most extravagant dresses she'd ever had the luck to wear. It was a piercing white satin, covered in lace. The collar spread out like a palm frond, and stiff lace spiraled down her arms. She could barely bend her elbows to hold the bouquet.

As the stiff silk rustled about her, she couldn't help but look at her reflection and think of how much she hated Edward Atkin at that very moment.

A pin found it's way into her lower back and she let out a small yelp of surprise.

"Sorry miss!" said the seamstress, who looked as if she wasn't sorry at all.

Sophie sighed, when the door banged open and her sisters came marching in.

"Oh Sophie!" cried Martha.

"You look..." started Lettie.

"Lovely!"

"Beautiful!"

"Like a giant cloud," Sophie corrected.

Martha protested vigorously, while Lettie hid her true feelings behind a gloved hand and twinkling eyes. Another pin found its way into her side and Sophie flinched.

_Save me,_ her eyes pleaded towards the reflections of her sisters as they gathered next to her.

"Now Sophie," Martha started. "I believe...Sarabeth was it? Yes, Sarabeth is nearly done, so please do your best to stay still. You look lovely, really."

"Yes," Lettie agreed. "Lovely."

Sophie glared at them both, though the strand of hair curling in front of her nose rather dampened the effect.

"Where is Fanny," Sophie asked, moving her arms slightly and wincing as the thick lace bit into her skin.

"Oh, she's busying herself with your fiance. Apparently, she wanted little kittens to be part of the reception gifts, and Edward is duly taking the time to dissuade her of the idea," said Lettie, her amusement apparent.

"Kittens?" Sophie squawked. "What in the world..." _At least Edward is doing something correct, for once._

"I know!" squealed Martha. "Though they would be a bit of a nuisance...so I suppose it is a good thing Edward is really insistent on just giving the gift baskets."

_Gift baskets?_ Sophie shook her head incredulously, which earned her another pin prick.

"Martha, you'd better go check with them. You know how Mother gets," instructed Lettie.

Her sister bounced out of the room with a cheerful wave, leaving Lettie to look at Sophie's reflection.

"That dress is ridiculous," she said flatly.

"Tell me about it," Sophie sighed.

There was a small huff from Sarabeth. Both girls ignored her.

"Sophie, are you really sure about this?" Her sister locked eyes with her in the mirror, her mouth set in a serious line. Lettie was definitely the most beautiful of the sisters, Sophie mused, with her glossy black hair and perfect skin. It didn't surprise Sophie how well things had turned out for her, even if she was the second child. It was still better than being the first.

Sophie sighed, feeling the restricting corset protest her breathing.

"Yes, I am."

Lettie's face was all but satisfied.

"I know how you look at Howl even now, Sophie," she started. "I can't help but wonder why you're marrying Edward when it's obvious that you still love that wizard."

Another pin prick, except it was more of a stab this time.

"Sarabeth," Sophie gritted out. "I think the dress fits. You can go."

"But—"

"You can pick up the dress later."

The crotchety seamstress left the room with many annoyed mumblings, her sewing kit bumping at her side.

The room was silent, with only the muted sounds of chirping birds carrying through the open windows.

"I love Edward, okay." Sophie's voice was jarring in the nearly empty room.

"If you're sure," Lettie said sceptically. Her lips pursed in a way that made her look uncannily similar to Fanny.

"I've asked Suliman to give me away," Sophie broke in abruptly. She broke her gaze with Lettie's mirror reflection to look at her sister's actual face. "Is that okay?"

It was a bit awkward asking the wizard to walk her down the aisle, but it sat him at a strategic area in the church.

Lettie, looking a bit thrown off guard, nodded. "Ah, yes that's fine Sophie. Why wouldn't it be?"

Sophie took a deep breath. "I just...I miss Papa."

Her sister sucked in a breath, and reached over to gently pull Sophie into a hug.

"Papa wouldn't haven't minded," she whispered.

Sophie nodded, and hoped Lettie wouldn't bring up Howl again.

* * *

Talking about her father made her feel lonely, and Sophie found an immense urge to go visit his grave and her mother's. After having Lettie help her peel out of the dress, she had lunch with the three women in her life. Atkin, to her great relief, was forbidden from seeing her until the wedding day. Thank goodness for inane traditions.

After lunch, she begged off from a ride into the country, claiming fatigue. Except, instead of going to take a nap, she waited until the party had all traipsed out into the carriage. Wrapping a dull scarf around her bright hair, she dressed in one of her old, dull, Mrs. Witch dresses and made her way over to the castle. Her parent's graves were in Market Chipping, and the portal door was the best way to get there in secret.

When she arrived a the castle's mansion door, she knocked tentatively on it.

There was no answer.

When she tried the door, it swung open easily enough, and Sophie quickly let herself in.

The castle was as dark as ever, if not darker, and Sophie grimaced as she noticed the accumulation of dirt and spiderwebs. Her jaw clenched as an urge to start cleaning rose up steadily, but she shook her head and turned back to the door, spinning it until it was the appropriate color, and stepping out into a different kind of sunlight.

Her neck prickled slightly as she closed the door behind her, but she dismissed the sensation as she stepped onto the busy sidewalk.

The way to the cemetery involved a bit of ducking and dodging and alleyway taking to avoid being seen by anyone who might recognize her. The church for their wedding was in Market Chipping, and thus the entire town was in tune. It was a great annoyance to Sophie.

Thankfully, there was no one visiting the dead when Sophie arrived. The sun shone hotly despite the steadily cooling days, and as she stepped through the gates she felt a comforting breeze brush across her face.

Henry and Mary Hatter lay under the shade of a great oak tree, and leaves lay scattered haphazardly across their resting place. Sophie cleared them away lovingly, and brushed the carved letters of their names when she finished, settling down in between them, knees tucked to her chest.

"Hello Papa, Mama," she said, a lump in her throat growing. "I'm sorry that I haven't visited you in such a long time. It's been quite busy."

She looked up to the sky, watching the fluffy clouds pass by as she controlled her urge to cry.

"You wouldn't believe what has happened in these past months," Sophie began again, after she'd collected herself. "The Witch of the Waste came into the hat shop and turned me into an old, old woman. I became the cleaning lady of the infamous Wizard Howl, and I met a fire demon of all things. And you wouldn't believe the mischief Lettie and Martha got into when they went off to their apprenticeships. Can you believe they had switched places?"

A small smile curved her lips at the memory.

"But it's alright. Switching suited them quite well. And I, well I broke Howl's contract with his fire demon and he destroyed the Witch of the Waste. And I'm back to myself again. And I'm getting married," she added. "Not to Howl though, to this man called Edward. I met him in a shop while I was having tea." Her voice trailed off. He had seemed so nice then, when they had first met. She never imagined what an utterly evil piece of swamp muck he actually was.

"I wish that you were here," she whispered, a familiar sigh escaping her lips. "I wish that you were walking me down the aisle Papa, and I wish that I..."

The words sat on her tongue, but they were too heavy to speak.

Silence sat between father, mother and daughter for a while, and she took comfort in being alone with them.

* * *

"The dress I'm wearing is atrocious," Sophie started again after what seemed like an hour, the thought just popping out of her with a small chuckle. "You always hated lace Mama, or at least that was what Papa told me. I think I hate lace too. And the collar, if it were any bigger I think I wouldn't be able to lift my arms. Not that I could, with those absolutely dreadful sleeves."

She bit her lip, tears threatening to escape once more.

"Oh god," she exclaimed, burying her face into her skirt covered knees. "I don't want to marry him." Her words were muffled by her skirt, and the effort to not cry made her voice thick. Heavy, panicked breaths escaped her.

She lifted her head from her knees, her eyelashes wet.

"I don't want to marry him!" she howled. Her scarf fell limply from her head.

The tree above her rustled as a strong breeze passed through it, and a few leaves spiraled downwards.

"Sophie?" a voice came, almost sounding like the wind itself.

Her body froze.

Clenching her eyes shut, she prayed hard and fast that the voice was just the wind, that it wasn't who she knew it was, and she would accept being a crazy person who hears things if that voice wasn't real, oh please.

Footsteps became louder on the gravel pathway. Sophie let out a few very unladylike curses, and opened her eyes.

Her parents' graves lay before her, unaltered but for a few leaves. Grass rustled behind her, and she felt a whoosh of air as two legs folded themselves elegantly next to her in a sitting position.

"Everyone is looking for you," Howl murmured.

Thoughts raced through her head. How did Howl find her? What should she say? Why was he just sitting next to her? And most importantly, did he hear what she just shouted to the heavens? She could smell him, a mix of his superfluous perfume and his own scent, and it trailed seductively under her nose.

And his voice.

Oh god, if all was gone but his voice, she would be happy.

"I'm sure," she finally managed after a few minutes of tension filled silence.

"Sophie—"

"I'm sorry!" she blurted out. She didn't dare to look at him. "I don't know if you heard yesterday but it sounded like you did, and I don't think you're heartless Howl. I never have," she rushed to say in one breath. She hadn't planned to say that, but out it came anyway.

She heard him let out a long sigh, and inwardly winced.

After another moment of silence, she spoke up again.

"How did you find me?"

She heard a rustle of clothing as he shrugged. "I was passing by the entrance and caught sight of you sitting here. A lucky find, if I say so myself."

She looked behind her, towards the entrance.

The place they sat was completely obscured by trees and randomly placed mausoleums. Her eyes narrowed sceptically, but she didn't question his response.

A breeze passed between them.

"What are you doing, Sophie?"

Nonplussed, Sophie turned to face Howl with a furrowed brow. "What do you mean?"

Howl's returning stare was devastating. Sophie couldn't remember the last time she'd been on the receiving end of his green glare and she could feel her knees tremble. His mouth was set in a grim line.

"I won't pretend I didn't hear what you had just shouted loud enough to wake your parents, and all their neighbors."

So he had heard. Sophie felt the color drain from her face as her stomach dropped to the ground.

"I won't pretend that I haven't noticed how pale and thin you've become. I won't pretend that I don't see you going off to speak with Suliman or Fairfax in corners with your eyes filled with worry, and I won't pretend that I don't notice that you flinch every time your fiance," he snarled the last word, "comes into the room."

"I won't pretend that I believe you when you tell me you don't love me," he finished in a whisper. "So tell me, Sophie, what in the bloody hell are you doing."

She could feel her mouth open to reply, and then close. And then open. And then close. Her throat felt dry and her fingers were numb and shaking.

"I don't..." She swallowed. "I don't know what you mean," she said faintly.

"The hell you don't!" he exploded, looming over her. "Stop lying to me Sophie," he demanded fiercely. He grabbed her arm, squeezing.

His touch seemed to awaken something within her, and she tugged her arm out of his grasp furiously. Scrambling to her feet, she tripped on the long hem of her dress as she ungracefully stood up.

"I don't know who you think you are," she shrilled. "I can't believe you have the nerve to say such things to me, after...after everything!" Inadequate, her words were, but she couldn't quite manage to speak properly through her sudden fury.

He was on his feet as fast as she could blink.

"After everything? Do you mean the weeks we spent living together in companionship where you cut up my clothing and tried to kill my spiders? Or do you mean the note you left me in cold silence? Or the many times you told me to stay away, that you didn't love me? Or after you screamed just now, quite passionately, that you did not want marry? Because I think all of these things give me the right to _say_ things to you, and I won't stand for any more of your half baked excuses."

He didn't yell the words, but he might as well have. He had paced back and forth during his speech, and now he stalked toward her to grab her upper arms.

"What are you doing, Sophie," he asked again in barely more than a whisper, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Howl...," she whispered, caught in his gaze, drawn to it like a lonely moth to a blazing bonfire. Her lip quivered with restrained emotion.

"God, Sophie," he cried brokenly, and pulled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her tightly. "Let me help you, tell me what is going on, don't hide from me anymore."

Her cheek pressed to his jacket, her arms folded against his chest, his face buried in her hair. A sudden calm rushed through her, and she felt the rigid tension disappear from her body as she relaxed into his hold.

She felt his hand creep up to cup her jaw, moving her to face his eyes once more.

"Let me in," he implored her.

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

"God damn it, Sophie!" He ripped himself away from her, stalking towards the oak tree. She trembled in his wake. She had seen Howl angry before, but somehow she couldn't help but be affected by it. When he reached the tree, he stood there for a moment before he stalked back towards her, his brow angry and his shoulders taught.

Her eyes widened fearfully as he harshly pulled her to him once again. She watched his eyes rove her face, and she tried to think properly of how to get out of this mess but her mind was awash with fear and longing.

And then his mouth descended onto hers, and her mind went blank. The searing warmth of his lips felt like stepping into a warm house on a winter's day, where the heat slowly creeps across your skin, scaring away the chill.

Warmth spread through her body as his lips moved against hers fiercely. Almost unconsciously, her hands gripped him closer and a mewl of excitement crawled out of her throat.

Encouraged by her response, Howl gripped her face, keeping her close and out of breath as their teeth and tongues clashed fervently. Their bodies pressed together close, and Sophie felt as if she were falling. Sunlight warmed her face, making everything red behind her closed eyes.

Howl broke apart from her with a ragged breath, his lips still so close, his head pressed against hers. A cool wind swirled against her ankles, making her shiver.

It was in that moment that she realized what position she had put herself in.

"No," she whispered, her eyes clenching shut. Taking a deep breath, she pushed Howl off of her, and stepped away from him.

His hair was mussed from where her hands had made their way through, entangling themselves. His eyes were bright and his mouth was a delicious, swollen color.

"Sophie," he begged.

"No! I can't...I can't do this. Please, Howl, please let me be. Just trust me, just let me go," she pleaded, stepping backwards with each word.

"I'll never let you go again," he growled, starting towards her.

"No!" she screamed, and thought fiercely of being home as she turned on her heel and ran.

"Sophie!"

To her immense surprise, her surroundings disappeared with a pop, and she landed in an ungraceful heap in her bedroom.

Calcifer peeked over at her from the fireplace, and before she could say hello, she promptly fainted.

* * *

**AN: Okay so I rewrote this a couple times and I'm still not happy but I'm already 11 minutes past the deadline and I REFUSE TO GIVE UP CAKE BECAUSE I DEMAND A THIRTY MINUTE GRACE PERIOD.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy. The story is soon coming to its end! Thank you for reading this far, and sticking with me. ;n; And though I've been majorly slacking with replying to reviews, know that I always read them and save them in my email and love and cherish them and they make me smile on bad days and glow on the good ones.**

So. You know the drill. Reviews please. /holdsyou 


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